Locked Out of Heaven
by KathDMD
Summary: A family is forged during their first year at the Space Academy...
1. Locked Out of Heaven

_Author's Note__: So I've been writing fanfiction for a while, and I am honored that I have such devoted readers. (THE BEST!) Whenever I feel stalled or have writer's block, I inevitably receive a message from one of you, and I feel inspired again. So this short story is a gift from me. I never thought I would write it, but I have received so many requests to describe how the "family" first met that I finally decided to bite the bullet. I dedicate this story to all of you - __**Sally On, Emie Mac, bknbu, FroofyB, Mer3Girl, Pinky Starflower, **__and of course, my Lovey, __**Wade Wells**__!_

_I want to point out that the stories I write are an amalgamation of almost everything in the Voltron Universe: DotU/GoLion, VV/Dairugger, Voltron Force, the forum, and the comic series from Viz, Image/Devil's Due Press and Dynamite Entertainment (with the tiniest bit of V3D - blech.) So if you are a first-time reader to my stories, well, you picked a __really__ good place to start._

_The usual disclaimer applies: I own nothing except the characters and planets I've created, and I do this solely for fun and entertainment purposes only, not profit._

_Now let the madness begin..._

_**Part 1: "Locked Out of Heaven" by Bruno Mars**_

* * *

Space Marshal Matthias Dylan Graham had little to do with the Space Academy, more properly known as the _Space Explorer Academy_. He was the head of the Galaxy Garrison, after all; the most powerful position in the Galaxy Alliance. Why should he waste his valuable time overseeing the Academy cadets?

There was one reason: discipline.

Not that many of the students needed punishment. It was a rarity on campus grounds to need to take disciplinary action against cadets. And usually, if there _was _such a need, there were plenty of other headmasters or officials to deal with it. He only dealt with the most dire of offenses.

"Space Marshal, Sir? I have the results from the psychological testing." Lieutenant Brown, Graham's youngest lieutenant to date, stood in the doorway with a large manila envelope in his hand. "Would you like them now, or would you like me to come back later?"

Graham inclined his head. "I'll take it now, Brown, thank you." He extended his arm, and the lieutenant came over to the desk and placed the envelope in his hand. It was much heavier than it usually was at this time every year, which concerned him.

"I'll be on my way out now, Sir."

"Thank you, Brown."

Once the door closed behind him, the Space Marshal pulled out the files and began to read. As he did, he felt a knot form in his stomach. Sixteen students in the psych files, none of them typical, all of them requiring monitoring and psychiatric help.

As his favorite young lieutenant, Jonathan James Hawkins, liked to say, "Psych profiles rarely lie."

As he began to skim through the files - sheet after sheet after sheet - he began to realize that there might be a few too many students suffering from "Locked Out of Heaven" syndrome. The term, facetiously coined by himself and Commander Steele many years ago after too many bourbons, referred to those students who were great. Maybe a little _too_ great; so great that they bordered on becoming the next supersoldiers of the galaxy and future leaders of the Garrison. But they were also superbly mentally disturbed in one way or another.

So close to perfection, so close to godliness, and yet...locked out of heaven.

Graham leaned back in his desk chair and closed his eyes. He suddenly had a headache. Sixteen students was two too many, as he usually kept one floor in the dorms open every year for the students with the syndrome. Well, it wouldn't be so bad. He would keep the last two together as roommates in another dorm instead of on the third floor in Building #686.

But that third floor..._Heaven help them. Heaven help __all__ of us._

* * *

_**Name: McClain, Lance Charles**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Pender, Nebraska; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Derek McClain; Mother, Cheryl McClain (divorced). _

_Notes: Below-average grades in primary, middle, and high school. Juvenile detention resulting from arrest for speeding/drag-racing on public roads and for possession of marijuana. Won radio contest resulting in gift certificate for ten free flying lessons and a natural talent for flight emerged._

_**Name: Holgersson, Sven**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Borough of Arna, Bergen; Norway [Planet Earth] _

_Family: Father, Alrek Holgersson (deceased); Mother, Lovise Vendel Holgersson (deceased); Grandmother, Nina Vendel._

_Notes: Parents (both navigators) killed in crash believed to be due to navigational error on father's part. Raised by grandmother in and around Oslo, Norway. Exceptionally gifted in science and mathematics. Spent the last seventeen months with an older girlfriend, Katrine Thorstad, using prescription painkillers recreationally. Currently ten weeks clean/sober._

* * *

"Dude. Why would they pair me up with a _navigator_?"

Lance McClain had experienced more in his sixteen years than most people would in a lifetime. It could probably be traced back to his parents' divorce when he was eleven. Not that the event had scarred him or stunted him for life; rather, splitting time between two households was the greatest way ever devised to get away with as much trouble as possible.

He couldn't help it, he liked to stir up trouble and gather attention. It was evident in his record, and made easier by the fact that neither of his parents had the heart to punish him. He was busy, colorful, loud...basically a hot mess. The only thing that had ever salvaged his life was his love of flying. It was the reason he was where he was right now.

His roommate seemed to be the opposite. Lance watched intently as the buff, dark-haired guy folded his clothes on the bed before putting them away. Everything was dark: dark-washed jeans, black pants, black T-shirts, black sweaters, a black wool coat, black boots, black leather shoes. "Dude. Do you happen to own any article of clothing that's _not _black?"

The guy turned to stare him down menacingly, his slate-blue eyes glaring like ice. "Do you have anything intelligent to say, or do you just repeat the word _Dude _like a parrot? _Å, herregud."_

Without missing a beat, Lance responded, "Well, there's an accent and a language I never heard in Pender, Nebraska. Where you from, Navigator?"

Those slate-blue eyes rolled, but they were less icy. "I'm not _Navigator_, my name is Sven. Sven Holgersson. And I'm from Bergen. It's the biggest city outside of Oslo in Norway." He turned back to his clothes.

"Ah. So the man in black actually has a name." He grinned. "I'm Lance. Lance McClain. I guess you and I are gonna be stuck together for a while." He motioned down to the red beanbag chair on the floor. "I hope this isn't gonna be a problem."

Sven shook his head. "As long as I don't trip over it."

"Good. 'Cuz I like it. And you will, too, once you try it. It's comfortable."

"I'm sure." Sven stacked the folded black T-shirts and shoved them into the top drawer of his bureau, next to his socks and underwear. Even his undergarments were black. As he pushed the drawer shut, he glanced over at the clock on the wall. 1430 hours. In a half hour, he'd have to take another urine test for Lieutenant Brown to prove he was clean. He didn't mind; he'd been clean for seventy-three days and was proud of his accomplishment.

"Wow, you sure like black," Lance commented after catching sight of the black socks and boxer briefs. "Just so you know, there's a chick with black lips moving into the corner room at the end of the hallway. You two already have something in common."

Sven barely acknowledged the comment. After his miserable excuse for a romantic relationship - _and _the abrupt way it ended - with Kat, he had no desire to date ever again. He didn't care about the girl with black lipstick at the end of the hall. He just wanted to prove himself. Prove he was clean, prove he could atone for his father's navigational error, and prove that he was worthy of this great opportunity he'd been given.

He had feeling that, despite the show he put on, Lance felt the same way.

* * *

_**Name: Kaga, Lisa**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Avondale, Arizona; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Masao Kaga; Mother, Elyse Richards Kaga (deceased); Sister, Julie Kaga._

_Notes: Mother killed in vehicular accident eight years ago. Father hardly ever around, leading to rapid maturation of subject. Unusually kind and sympathetic. Able to pick up foreign languages easily. Spends spare time learning about foreign and ancient cultures._

_**Name: Ellington, Ginger Lynn**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Houston, Texas; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, George Ellington (deceased); Mother, Amelia Falk Ellington (deceased); Brother, Jamison "Jamie" George Ellington (deceased); Aunt, Lorie Falk Gardner; Uncle, Gerald Gardner._

_Notes: Parents and half-brother killed in NASA ship explosion; continues to harbor grudge against NASA for incident. Raised by maternal aunt and uncle. Implicated in but never charged with sale of marijuana and horse tranquilizers. Gifted in flight._

* * *

When her roommate blinked those jaded blue eyes at her, Lisa immediately tensed up.

Lisa had always been intuitive. It was how she had survived her mother's death, her father's continual absence, and worst of all, her older sister's all-too-enthusiastic departure when she left for college and never came back or bothered to check in. She _had _to learn how to read people; it was the only thing that prevented her inevitable disappointment when people let her down.

It was the only way she'd survived.

This new roommate of hers was a mixed bag of emotions. She wanted to be there, and she _didn't_ want to be there, all at the same time. "Hi. I'm Lisa."

Better to put it right out there in the open.

"I'm Ginger," she replied slowly, almost as though she was coming down from a drug-induced high. "It's nice to meet you, Lisa. It looks like we're gonna be stuck together for a while."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call it _stuck_." The dark-haired beauty grinned, immediately putting her new roommate at ease. "It could always be worse. The Garrison could've put me with a serial killer or something."

At her dry comment, Ginger laughed. She liked this chick and her deadpan sense of humor. "How do you know I'm _not_?" she played along, those jaded blue eyes suddenly twinkling. "Lots of serial killers _look _innocent."

"Oh, I can tell you're not. You look like a nice, big-haired Texan girl with red lipstick."

"Hey, we own guns in Texas. Why do you think I'm such a good shooter?"

"Great. Maybe you _are _a serial killer."

At that, they both laughed. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. Maybe all of the pain, loss and rejection they'd both suffered over the course of the past few years had been necessary to lead into this moment. Maybe they were finally somewhere they belonged.

It was a good feeling.

* * *

_**Name: Garrett, Tsuyoshi "Hunk"**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Tokyo City, Tokyo; Japan [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Benjamin Garrett; Mother, Kaori Inoue Garrett; Brother, Akira Garrett; Brother, George Garrett; Brother, Kenji Garrett; Brother, Damon Garrett._

_Notes: Family moved to Tennessee in subject's early youth. Youngest of five boys. Socially inept; uses size for intimidation. Gifted in all aspects of engineering._

_**Name: Stoker, Darrell "Pidge"**_

_Age: 12_

_Birthplace: [Planet Balto (undisclosed origin)]_

_Family: Twin Brother, Chip Stoker; Adoptive Father, Christian Stoker; Adoptive Mother, Jeanine Stoker._

_Notes: Younger than twin Chip Stoker by eleven minutes. Brought to Denver, Colorado (USA; Planet Earth) for adoption. Noticeably undersized for age. Incredibly high scores on state-mandated IQ test. Natural ability with systems and mathematics. Very little social skills._

_**Name: Stoker, Chip**_

_Age: 12_

_Birthplace: [Planet Balto (undisclosed origin)]_

_Family: Twin Brother, Darrell "Pidge" Stoker; Adoptive Father, Christian Stoker; Adoptive Mother, Jeanine Stoker._

_Notes: Older than twin Darrell "Pidge" Stoker by eleven minutes. Brought to Denver, Colorado (USA; Planet Earth) for adoption. Noticeably undersized for age. Incredibly high scores on state-mandated IQ test. Natural ability with systems and mathematics. Very little social skills._

_**Name: Shinobu, Rocky**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York, New York; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Takeo Shinobu; Mother, Katherine Dioli (never married)._

_Notes: Cynical in nature. Considered a bully in formative years. Uses size for intimidation. Placed second in teenage lifting competition and first in sumo wrestling competition. Obsession with flying._

* * *

Four pairs of eyes met in the small room. Pidge's and Hunk's room. This was not the way any of them had intended to start out their career at the Space Academy, and yet...there they were. The roommate pairings just seemed odd. _Off._

Hunk and Rocky looked like they could have been twins - or at least, brothers from another mother - and Chip and Pidge actually _were _twins. It seemed logical that they'd be rooming together in that way. But no, Hunk and Pidge were stuck together on the third floor of building #686, while Rocky and Chip were trapped on the second floor of building #672.

It was the first time in their twelve years that the twins had been separated.

Behind his glasses, Chip was the first one to finally say something. "I get it."

He was answered with three blank stares.

"No, think about it for a second." The older twin cleaned his glasses on the hem of his shirt, keeping the other three in suspense. "Pidge and I are the runts of our class year. We're the youngest, the smallest, and practically the smartest. We're fodder for bullying and teasing."

"Definitely," Pidge agreed.

Chip then looked at Rocky and Hunk. "But you two...you two are _huge_. And intimidating. And you look mean."

"Don't make me beat you, Short Stack," Rocky grumbled to his new roommate in his thick Brooklyn accent.

"Please tell me you didn't intend that as a jab," Hunk added threateningly.

Chip shook his head. "No, actually, I meant it as a compliment." He smiled sheepishly. "See? No social graces, that's what all of the paperwork will tell you about the two of us."

"Yeah. We've got to work on that," Pidge chimed in.

Looking over at Hunk, Rocky rolled his eyes. "Great. So are you gonna make your point, or what?"

"I'm getting there. Sheesh." Chip shrugged. "In any case, Pidge and I were split up and put with each of you guys for protective purposes. If we roomed together, we'd be an easy target for bullying. But with us split up, rooming with tough guys like the two of you, well, no one would _dare _mess with us."

Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. "Eh, I guess that's true. I won't take too kindly to anybody who picks on my roommate."

"Me neither." Rocky nodded in agreement.

Chip smiled. "See! You get it. I knew you'd get there eventually."

Rocky and Hunk exchanged another glance. "On second thought," the Brooklynite mentioned, "maybe I _do_ need to beat him."

* * *

_**Name: Kirigas, Cinda**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: District 104/Talech; Kasmir [Planet Mira a.k.a. "Hydra"]_

_Family: Unknown._

_Notes: Abandoned at Talech Orphanage within days of birth. Extraordinarily high IQ among Miran culture, including so-called "sixth sense." Exceptionally gifted with technical and engineering skills. More comfortable alone due to upbringing in orphanage._

_**Name: Asimov, Kelly Ayn**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Fontabelle, Bridgetown; Barbados [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Andrew Asimov (current whereabouts unknown); Mother, Erin Featherston Asimov (divorced)._

_Notes: Mother moved subject to New York City at age ten. Cynical in nature, distrustful of adults and people in general. Considered "street smart."_

* * *

They seemed an unlikely pairing.

Cinda was Miran; it was obvious by her blue skin and vivid blue hair. And Kelly was a typical Bajan - tawny brown skin, large hazel eyes, and curly ash-blond hair. Out of the six girls on their floor, they were the only two who didn't have white skin.

Kelly swore it was racist and sexist, but said nothing. Nothing in _English_, anyway. In Bajan, it was an entirely different story.

Cinda merely blinked at her new roommate as she went off on her tirade. When Kelly finally quieted down, the Miran girl asked politely, "Are you finally done?"

"What? Are you lookin' for a fight, Blue Girl?" Kelly was always ready to rumble; she'd been a force of nature with the proverbial chip on her shoulder since her father walked out on her and her mother. "'Cuz I can take whatever you got and then some."

Cinda sighed. "No, of course I'm not looking for a fight. I was simply curious to know if you were happy to be here, or if someone forced you to be here."

"Huh." Kelly shook her head, and a waterfall of ashy curls whipped back and forth. "No. I'm here because it was the best way to get the heck out of my country and away from my crazy family drama. And besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "I like to shoot things."

The Miran girl nodded.

"How 'bout you, Blue Girl?"

"Cinda. My name is _Cinda_."

"Oh. I'm Kelly, by the way." She looked her alien roommate up and down. "But I just want you to know, I'm calling you _Blue Girl_."

Cinda sighed again. She definitely wasn't used to living with a person this blunt and confrontational. "Please don't."

Kelly rolled her hazel eyes. _"Fine. _I'll try my best. But don't go lookin' for trouble if I slip from time to time."

"How about you call me _Cindy _instead?" she smiled. "No one else calls me that, so it'll be your own special nickname for me." Her blue-green eyes flashed brilliantly, and even if Kelly had wanted to argue the point with her, she wouldn't have been able to.

"You got a deal."

"Great."

They were off to a good start. Cinda wasn't exactly sure what would come of this roommate pairing, but she decided that she wouldn't worry about it right now. She had bigger, more important things to focus on.

Like engineering.

* * *

_**Name: Jack, Clifford Walter**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Melbourne, Victoria; Australia [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Justin Jack; Mother, Ellen Walker Jack; Brother, James "Jimmy" Jack. _

_Notes: Family owns dairy/cattle farm. Has no desire to follow in family business. Also has no previous experience with flight but is very eager to learn._

_**Name: Dalloway, Aidan**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Albany, New York; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Adrian Dalloway; Mother, Carly Anderson (current whereabouts unknown)._

_Notes: Born to workaholic father and drug-addicted mother. Mother left eleven years ago. Subject's girlfriend, Shaye O'Keeley, died six months ago due to overdose on heroin at frat party._

* * *

He didn't know what he was doing at the Space Academy. All he knew was that he wanted to go the total opposite of everyone else in his family. Their livelihood was in cattle. _Farming_. For them, their lives and careers were tied to the land.

So Cliff had wanted to go in the complete opposite direction and base his career on the sky. In _flight_. And becoming a Space Explorer seemed the perfect way to go about it.

That was his own story, anyway. As for his roommate, well, he had no idea why he was there.

"Wow, you're really from Australia," the blond guy mused, looking impressed. "That's really cool. Like, you're from _down under_. Tell me, is it true that the toilets really flush the other way than they do here?"

_Well, Cliff, at least he's a decent chap. It could be a lot worse._ "Um, to be honest, Mate, I've never paid that much attention to the loo."

His roommate grinned. He was, by all accounts, a good-looking guy: tall, lean, muscular, with sapphire eyes and the most beautiful long, blond, wavy hair he'd ever seen. Oh, and dimples. This guy could have been on the cover of a magazine. _Any_ magazine. "Mate. You called me _Mate_. That's freakin' _awesome_."

"Well, you haven't told me your name yet."

"It's Aidan." The young blond god reached his hand out to shake Cliff's. "Aidan Dalloway. And I'm a native of New York, so don't be surprised that I find it fascinating that you're from Australia." He grinned again, and if Cliff had a camera in his hands, he would have snapped a photo and submitted it to every modeling agency in town. "I've never been outside the state before."

"Well, I'm Cliff Jack, and my family is filled with a bunch of cattle farmers," the Australian admitted. "My life isn't so glamorous, believe me. And I won't be taking you back to my homeland unless we're docking in Sydney." He rolled his eyes. "There's nothing special about the part of the country where my family comes from."

"Hey, just tell me when you're going, and I'll get my bags packed."

At those words, Cliff laughed. He liked this guy. And he was relieved that he had a tour guide to help him navigate his way through New York City. He'd been nervous about that, and now he didn't need to be.

Oh, and even better, he'd found a friend. And somehow, he knew that their bond would last a lifetime.

* * *

_**Name: Feld, Morgan**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Chicago, Illinois; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Mark Chandler (current whereabouts unknown); Mother, Lucy Feld (divorced). _

_Notes: Family abandoned by father ten years ago. Juvenile record including possession and use of marijuana, breaking and entering, petty theft/fifth- and sixth-degree larceny. Exceptionally gifted in mathematics._

_**Name: Stensson, Lenora Marie**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Westchester, New York; USA [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Kristoffer Stensson (deceased); Mother, Angelie Nabors-Stensson._

_Notes: Exceptionally gifted in the field of computers and technology from a young age. Skilled in all forms of martial arts. Father killed two years ago in random homicide. Subject suffering from trust issues and severe depression. Prone to psychological outbursts, including the wearing of black lipstick._

* * *

Two photos. Two framed photos sat on her desk: one of an attractive couple, the other of the same man from that couple holding a toddler.

It was two more photos than Morgan had on _her _desk.

"So," she asked her new roommate slowly, leaning against her desk, "are they your parents?"

The chestnut-haired girl nodded in reply.

"So I take it that's you as a toddler with your dad."

"Yeah," she squeaked.

Morgan crossed the room and picked up the framed photo. "You were super cute," she offered finally, warily eyeing her roommate. "But with your black lipstick, I'd never guess that this was you as a little girl."

"No kidding, huh." She finally cracked a smile. "I'm Lenora. Lenora Stensson."

"Pretty name. Do your friends call you Len?"

_What friends? _she thought. Her friends had all disappeared after her father's funeral. And nobody had ever called her Len before, but she liked it. Her parents had called her _Nora _out of affection, but nobody had ever, _ever _called her Len.

"Yeah. They do."

"Cool. That's what I'm gonna call you." She smirked. "My name's Morgan. Last name's Feld. And watch out, 'cuz I can cause trouble six ways to Sunday."

At that, she laughed. "For some reason, Feld, I don't doubt it."

Amusement flashed in the girl's violet eyes, and Lenora thought that she might have finally, _finally _found a friend. It had been such a long time that she forgot what it was like. Maybe now things would start to improve, and she could stop wearing her black lipstick.

_Or...maybe not._

* * *

_**Name: Kogane, Keith Akira**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Tin Hau, Causeway Bay (Eastern District); Hong Kong [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Akio Daiki Kogane (deceased); Mother, Bao "Christine" Ling Kogane (deceased); Sister, Christiane Eiko Kogane (ward of state; current whereabouts unknown). _

_Notes: Parents killed in accident four years ago. Subject has been bounced around foster homes, never able to stay with one family too long due to tendency to argue and inability to get along with other foster family members. Quiet and suffers from severe trust and anxiety issues. Possesses brilliant tactical mind._

_**Name: Aki, Jeffrey Manabu**_

_Age: 16_

_Birthplace: Yomitan, Okinawa (Torii Station); Japan [Planet Earth]_

_Family: Father, Geoffrey Dukane; Mother, Rin Aki (divorced)._

_Notes: Subject and mother left father at Fort Benning, Georgia, after an altercation which resulted in the fracture of mother's arm. Raised by mother in Brooklyn, where subject was bullied by classmates. Known for hot temper. Possesses brilliant tactical mind._

* * *

The mullet. It was the first thing that Jeff noticed about his new roommate. He had a glorious crop of hair. If he were a girl, the first thing he'd do was run his fingers through it.

The second thing he noticed was that the guy was quiet. Too quiet. Bordering-on-disturbed quiet, which made Jeff wonder if perhaps the guy was a mass murderer in the making. But then again, Jeff had always been overly cautious. Growing up with a bully for a father, and then being bullied by classmates - it would do that to a guy.

Along with creating a fierce temper, but that was a different story.

As Jeff unpacked his belongings, beginning to settle into their small dorm room, he noted that his new roommate had been very unwelcoming. The guy had been sitting at his desk, his nose deep into a book written in Japanese, not paying any attention to the person who would be sharing his space. The guy's actions left him feeling disturbed. He hated being ignored; again, it was something his father used to do to him.

Jeff hated that he had "daddy" issues.

"I always liked reading manga," he offered to break the ice.

The mullet-headed guy forcefully put his book down and turned to look at him. "This is not _manga_," he shot out defensively, shooting Jeff an angry glare. "I'm not a _child_. I don't read _cartoons_." Then he glanced back down at the book like nothing had happened, and continued to ignore his roommate.

At the outburst, Jeff tamped down his anger. He had been known to get in trouble at school before. He couldn't understand it - he was the one who'd been picked on relentlessly, but when he finally stood his ground and defended himself, _he _was the one who got in trouble. Then he remembered that he was in a new school and he had the chance for a new start. He didn't want to end up the way he had before.

Silently, he continued to put his items away. The way he figured, this roommate of his would have to come around eventually. After all, there was no way two people could live in the same small space without at least introducing themselves to each other.

Right?

* * *

_**Evolutionary Notes:**_

* The original roommate pairings were as follows: Hunk/Pidge, Keith/Lance, Jeff/Cliff, Sven/Aidan, Lisa/Cinda, Morgan/Kelly, Ginger/Lenora.

* When I first began writing, there were no first names for Commander Hawkins or Space Marshal Graham, which is how _Jonathan _and _Matthias _came about. Many years later, the names "James" and "Dylan" came forward in the different comic book series (DDP's "Voltron" and Dynamite's "Voltron: Year One" respectively.) I've chosen to keep my original names, but I've added the canon names as middle names.

* There was another pair of OC roommates. When I updated my stories, I cut Alicia Bedford and LeeLee Xiang out, mostly because I never developed them as characters - they were sort of like the Zandee and Tangor of Vehicle Voltron. But I didn't get rid of them; I have a tendency to recycle ideas. Keep reading.

* There are _lots _of little references to the different comic series. I won't point them all out, but if you catch 'em, they're kind of entertaining.

* Kelly was not originally Bajan; she was a red-haired Irish girl who was interested in Lance and was friendly with another one of my OCs, David Rackens. (If you know David, great! If you don't, keep reading.) I decided I didn't want to go that route, and as I was trying to figure out what I wanted to morph her into, I fell in love with Rihanna circa the 2012 Grammy Awards. But I didn't just get rid of my original vision of Kelly. I recycled her into Anastasia, David's girlfriend.

* Speaking of Kelly, the last name _Asimov _was borrowed from the Dairugger subs. Captain Dick Asimov, anyone?

* I tended to stick with the Image/DDP comics and their backgrounds for our heroes. Except for Sven. In my stories, the Viking is always from Norway.


	2. Blow Ya Mind

_Author's Note__: All original characters (Lenora, Aidan, Morgan, Kelly, and Christiane) are mine. Other than that, I own nothing._

_**Part 2: "Blow Ya Mind" by Nicki Minaj (the lyrics are dedicated to **__**Mer3Girl**__**)**_

* * *

"_And that just goes to show I'm that b*tch -_

_I 26-inched the rims with __**black lips**__."_

* * *

Keith supposed he had no other choice but to go down to the cafeteria for dinner.

The orphan could admit it to himself: he had no faith in people, and therefore had no desire to make friends or date girls or anything else like that. After the tragic deaths of both of his parents, coupled with the crushing loss of his little sister Christiane to the welfare of the state, Keith just could not bring himself to believe in the human bonding experience.

He was emotionally stunted and intrinsically flawed, though he had yet to admit _that_.

Swallowing hard, Keith closed his hardcover Japanese book and rubbed his hand over his abdomen. His stomach was growling. _Violently. _He hadn't eaten a thing all day; he'd refused any sustenance provided by the foster-care system. As far as he was concerned, having been a ward of the state, New York cared nothing for him and even less for poor Christiane.

Again, that left the cafeteria as his only option for dinner.

Standing up, Keith decided to look for his roommate. He didn't know the guy's name, but he was sure that he'd be able to pick him out of the crowd - he had a keen eye and a nearly photographic memory. That being said, he didn't know whether or not his roommate would welcome him at his table. After all, he hadn't exactly been welcoming of _him _when he moved into their room.

Well, now he had no other choice. _Come on, Kogane. Get your behind down to the cafeteria. It's time to make nice with your roommate._ He pulled his hair into a ponytail, then left the room for the first time since he'd moved in, locking the door behind him.

* * *

The line in the cafeteria was ridiculously long, but Jeff wasn't exactly surprised. In his old school in Brooklyn, the lunch line used to go on for longer than this one - nearly every student was loading up for not only lunch, but dinner, too. He'd come from a very poor neighborhood, one where most kids only showed up at school in order to eat.

In a way, he was glad that his roommate hadn't decided to join him for dinner. The dude was as antisocial as a guy got. It was really putting a cramp in his style. And besides, he had the chance to begin anew. This was a fresh start for him. He refused to be the angry, defensive kid he'd been in Brooklyn. He could now be someone else, someone he actually wanted to be.

And maybe - just _maybe_ - he could even find a girlfriend in the process. After all, there were six girls living on his floor. It was entirely possible that one would be interested in him.

He noticed three of the girls from the floor sitting together. There was the one with the short blonde curly head and her roommate with the long, shimmering dark hair. And _then _there was the one he'd noticed immediately when he first moved in, the girl with those intense violet eyes who roomed with the chick with black lips. Firmly gripping his lunch tray, he finagled his way through the crowd to make his way over to their table.

"Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

The three girls shot each other a look before giving him their okay. "Sure," the girl with the shimmering hair told him. "My name is Lisa, and this is my roommate, Ginger." She pointed to the blond girl next to her. "And over there," she inclined her head, "is our floormate, Morgan."

"It's very nice to meet you all." He sat down next to Morgan. "My name is Jeff, and I live on your floor, too."

"Very cool, amigo," Morgan greeted him. "Which room do you live in? Who's your roommate?"

Jeff shrugged. "My room is the one that's not directly across from the center stairwell - that's Lance's and Sven's room - but the one next to it. And, um, it's actually a funny story about my roommate. See, I don't exactly know a lot about him."

Ginger and Lisa shot each other a look, and Morgan raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Well, he's in your room, right? You mean to tell us that you're living in the same room and you don't even know the guy's name?"

"Nope."

"Harsh." Ginger lifted a forkful of spaghetti to her mouth.

Jeff shrugged. "Yeah. He wasn't exactly all warm and fuzzies, if you catch my drift." He leaned in closer to Morgan. _Gods, _he thought, _she is the prettiest girl I have ever seen._ Oh yes, she was _definitely _the girl he'd be putting the moves on first.

"Hmm." Morgan leaned back in her chair.

Suddenly, Jeff felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and into the remorseful expression on his roommate's face. "Wow. Speak of the devil."

"Would you mind if I sat down?" the antisocial guy asked hesitantly.

"No. Go right ahead," Morgan offered.

Internally cringing, Jeff turned his head to check the look on the girl's face. Sure enough, Morgan seemed instantly smitten with his new roommate, her violet eyes locked on his turquoise orbs. Trying to squelch his horror, he looked in the other direction, only to find that his roommate seemed equally intrigued.

"Hi. I'm Morgan Feld. Nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Morgan. I'm Keith. Keith Kogane."

"And I'm your roommate, Jeff Aki," Jeff interrupted sullenly.

Keith laughed. "Jeff. It's nice to meet you. Officially." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved earlier. I'm not very good with people or making friends or anything like that." For a moment, those bright turquoise eyes darkened. "I was awful to you. Again, I'm so sorry."

Jeff shrugged. "It's okay, Keith. No hard feelings."

"Thanks. That makes me feel better." And with those words, Keith seated himself and his tray between Jeff and Morgan. Once he'd taken a bite of his dinner, he turned to the girl and began to talk to her as if they were the only two people in the crowded cafeteria.

Jeff wasn't sure _what _the defeated expression on his face looked like, but he knew that it was pathetic enough to garner sympathetic glances from Lisa and Ginger. He attempted to twirl his spaghetti around on his plate and forget that he had ever thought about hooking up with Morgan. Now that she'd met Keith, he was stuck squarely in the friend zone.

He'd just have to make the best of it.

* * *

He was a solitary figure. He hadn't wanted to meet people, make friends, find a girlfriend - nothing. He was stubborn about it, almost obsessively so, and the only reason he even bothered with Lance at all was because they roomed together.

It was time for dinner. Yes, there was a cafeteria on campus, but Sven didn't like the food served in there. It was all about burgers and fries, pizza and pasta. _No thank you_. Since getting clean from the prescription drugs, it had been all about keeping his body and mind healthy. He worked out, ate well. Fish. Chicken. Lots of vegetables. It worked - his body was now as tight and as sharp as his brain. And for a guy turning seventeen in less than nine weeks, that was like nirvana. The holy grail, even.

He had gone to the market earlier to find fresh ingredients. His grandmother had taught him how to cook, first with the traditional dish from his hometown, _Bergens fiskesuppe_ - fish soup - followed by _lefse_, a Norwegian flatbread. Now there wasn't much he couldn't cook, though he tended to stick to lighter versions of traditional fare. He'd left the fish and the vegetables in the community kitchen's refrigerator, opting to change into a short-sleeved black T-shirt before attempting a strange oven and stovetop.

He hadn't been gone long, but as he approached the kitchen, he heard voices. Two people, cooking dinner together and talking. He was hesitant. Apprehensive. He really just wanted to be alone. But then again, he had to eat, so he stood in the doorway and assessed the situation.

One of Lance's new friends was seated at the table, cross-legged on the wooden chair, with a bottle of water in front of him. Sven wasn't sure why he disliked the good-looking guy with the blond ponytail and sapphire eyes so much. He seemed nice enough, very friendly and talkative, but for some reason, the Norwegian couldn't stand him. And he didn't understand the reason until his eyes darted over to the girl cooking dinner at the stove.

His slate-blue eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he drank in the sight of her. _That's the girl Lance was talking about. The one with the black lips._

"So, Len," the blond guy tossed out casually, "what's for dinner tonight? You cooking anything good?"

The girl with the black lipstick - _Is that her name? Len? _- didn't look away from her pans on the stove. "I'm making poached tilapia with wilted spinach," she answered, adding more low-sodium chicken broth to the pan with the fish. "You should really learn to cook, Aidan."

"I can cook, Len. I was just hoping I'd find a girl who'd cook _for _me." He took a sip of his water.

"Well, I only cook for myself, so you're outta luck." It was then that she noticed Sven standing in the kitchen doorway. "Well, hey there, stranger. You plan on eating with us, or are you just gonna stand there and creep?"

Those few words blew the Norwegian away.

He should have been angry. He should have been _offended _by her attitude and her obnoxious way of greeting someone she'd never met before. But he couldn't. How could he be? She was dressed nearly the same as he was, in dark-washed jeans, a black tank top, and black leather boots - hers came with a stacked four-inch platform heel - and she'd made fish and vegetables for dinner, which was what _he _was making.

Who _was _this girl?

"Um, hello?" the blond guy shot out suspiciously. "You've got a name, stranger?"

When he finally found his voice, he answered, "My name is Sven Holgersson. I'm Lance's roommate."

He nodded in recognition. "Ah, so _you're _the guy who rooms with Lance. The man in black."

"Hey, don't knock black," she cut in.

Sven loved her in that moment.

"Well, my name is Aidan Dalloway," the blond guy introduced himself, "and this lovely lady over here is Lenora Stensson." He motioned towards the girl with the black lips. "More affectionately known as _Len_."

"I see. It's nice to meet you both." He didn't answer Aidan directly. He was too busy staring at Lenora.

Aidan noticed immediately. She was oblivious.

Ignoring Aidan, Sven moved over to where Lenora was standing. "Would you mind if I used a burner?" he asked, brushing up against her. He didn't know why, but he suddenly felt the urge to stand as close to her as possible.

And he didn't know how, but he knew that she felt the same way.

Aidan stared at them, narrowing his sapphire eyes as even he felt the spark between the two of them. "Sure," she answered, shooting him a friendly black-lipped smile. "Go right ahead. You can use the other two burners if you'd like."

He decided to flirt a little bit. If he knew anything about girls, it was that they liked a guy with an accent who could speak a foreign language. It was worth a shot. _"Takk."_

"You're welcome." She didn't even look in his direction.

_Ouch._

"So, Man in Black," Aidan interjected, "Lance tells me that you're a navigator. That's not very exciting, is it? It's a lot of math."

"It _is _a lot of math," Sven answered crisply. "But I don't mind. I'm good at math. And there's something strangely comforting in knowing that the answer is either right or wrong. There's no grey area. No room for creativity."

Lenora nodded in agreement, her chocolate-brown eyes shining. "_I_ like math, too. I'm specializing in systems analysis." She paused to tend to her fish on the stovetop. "Do you know my roommate Morgan? She's specializing in navigation, too."

Aidan gripped his plastic water bottle in his hand. _That _had certainly backfired on him. He had been hoping that Lenora would find Lance's roommate stiff and boring. Really, what woman went for the ship's navigator over its captain?

Apparently, this one did.

"Right. So it's our first night here, and it's Friday night." Aidan winked at the girl, trying his hardest to break up whatever chemistry was occurring between her and this intruder. "Len, what are you up to this evening? You wanna head out see if there's anything to do? I mean, we have orientation all weekend, so it might be cool to do something fun before we get down to work."

She shrugged. Before she could answer, the timer dinged, and she turned off the burners. Carefully, she plated her fish and her spinach before rinsing out her pans in the sink. Later, after they cooled off, she'd wash them.

"Tilapia and spinach, hmm?" Sven commented as he looked over her dinner. "I'm making salmon and mixed vegetables."

"Sounds good," she replied, forgetting that Aidan had mentioned anything at all. "Maybe I'll make that tomorrow night. I like salmon, but I've been having problems with poaching it. Seems like I can never get the center fully cooked."

Sven nodded. "Come back tomorrow night, and I'll show you an oven technique that will cook the salmon perfectly." He made a face. "Poached salmon. _Yuck."_

She squinted her eyes at him, but her vibe remained playful. "Hey, I'm good at poaching things."

_Like my heart. _Sven attempted to keep his voice even, but he failed in keeping the amused grin off his face. What did this girl have over him? She made him feel things that he'd never felt before, not even for Kat. "Except salmon, obviously."

Scrunching up her face, she grabbed her plate and stared back at him. _"Obviously._ So then, stranger, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night so you can teach me how to cook it properly." She winked. "Good night, Sven. Good night, Aidan." She then took her plate and headed back down the hallway towards the corner room, leaving the man in black and the blond guy in the kitchen alone.

Once she had left the room, Aidan took a long swig of water from his bottle. Ignoring him, Sven started up the gas underneath his burner. As he tended to his pan on the stove, he could hear the blond guy place the cap back on his empty bottle before setting it down on the table.

"Dude. That was so _uncool_."

Sven looked over his shoulder, lifting an eyebrow. "Are you talking to me, Aidan?"

"Yeah, actually, I am."

Putting his spatula down, Sven turned to face his competition and crossed his arms. As he did, he noticed that the good-looking guy had stood up, gripping his water bottle so tightly that there was seemingly nothing left to it. "Listen, Man in Black. I have spent the entire day with Len, and I want you to know that she's off-limits to you."

"Oh?" Sven turned back to his salmon. "Len and I were just talking about cooking, Aidan. Which seems to be something you don't do very often."

"Very funny." Aidan seemed anything _but _amused. "Dude, in case you can't get it through your thick accented skull, I've already got dibs on Lenora. She's mine." He slammed what remained of the bottle on the kitchen table. "You hear that, man? Back off."

Sven gritted his teeth together. "Aidan, I was merely talking about food with her. If you've got a problem with that, I can't help you." He turned back to his dinner on the stove. "And just so you know, in all fairness...I think it's up to _her _who's she interested in, not _you_."

Not wanting to start an argument on the first night, Aidan moved to the doorway. "Sure, man. Whatever you say." With a last icy glance, he left the kitchen and headed back towards his dorm room.

Once he heard the door slam shut, Sven smiled to himself. He had no idea how he was so sure, but he was confident that Lenora would pick him over Aidan. From their limited contact, he just _knew _that he and the chestnut-haired beauty were meant to be together. He just didn't know if _she _was aware of it.

Now it was his job to make sure that she knew it, too.

* * *

_**Evolutionary Notes:**_

* Christiane's original name was _Christine Anne_. I changed it to _Christiane _literally at the last second, and I have never regretted my decision.

* Aidan Dalloway was modeled after the character of Hank (played by William Shockley) on the 1990s TV series _Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman._

* My brother **Maverikat** and I had a long, alcohol-infused discussion one night after Orlando MegaCon, centering specifically on Jeff's and Morgan's friendship. He told me, "Come on, no guy ever wants to be in the Friend Zone. Jeff had to have had a crush on Morgan at some point." (He then made me listen to the song "Friend Zone" by Your Favorite Martian.) So this chapter is dedicated to him.


	3. Teenage Dream

_Author's Note__: All original characters (Lenora, Aidan, Morgan, Kelly, and Christiane; Instructors Clemens and Bailey) are mine. Other than that, I own nothing._

_**Part 3: "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry**_

* * *

The lecture hall was filled with guys.

Hunk looked around his ENGR101 class. There was nothing built that he couldn't fix, or at least take apart and put back together again. It might have been the time he spent in his dad's pit crew, though he couldn't be sure.

There seemed to be a bunch of them like that in there, eager for whatever Instructor Clemens could throw at them on their first day of engineering classes.

But they were all guys. As well they should be.

Not that math was outside of a woman's realm of expertise. _Heck no_, Hunk thought with a laugh, _Morgan could run circles around all of us in math. She'll make a better navigator than any the Garrison has ever seen before. _It was simply that women were too diminutive to carry the physical burdens of mechanical engineering. The field demanded too much for a woman's slight build and musculature.

Which was why his mouth dropped open when she entered the room.

He knew Cinda. He _knew_ her; he'd met the blue-skinned Miran girl who lived on his floor. She was slender and pretty and smart and petite. How would she ever get by in a class like this one? The machinery alone would crush her.

Apparently, he wasn't alone in his thinking; _everyone _seemed to be gawking at Cinda in disbelief, Instructor Clemens included. She didn't acknowledge the stares as she sat down in the empty seat in the front row of the lecture hall. She was determined to prove them all wrong about women and engineering.

For a brief moment, he was insanely proud of her. Then, worriedly, his views changed. He was terrified that she would hurt herself. That the machinery would crush her. That it would all be too much for her.

She turned around in her seat to get a good view of her classmates. When she saw him, she smiled and gave a small wave. It was only then that Hunk began to relax. Cinda was a tough chick, possibly tougher than any of the other girls on their floor. She'd be just fine as an engineer.

And she'd prove an entire department wrong in the process.

* * *

Instructor Bailey, as head of the navigation department, only taught NAV501, 502, and 503. But that being said, he made a point of introducing himself to every NAV101 class to acquaint himself with the students who would be specializing in navigation. After all, NAV101 was required of every student regardless of specialty; and it seemed obvious that only the first-year students who took NAV101 during their first semester would end up specializing in the subject.

Sven sat off to the side of the class. The room was filled with students from every class year, ranging from first-year to fifth-year students. He quietly studied the composition of the classroom. He only recognized one person, the girl with the violet eyes and that beautiful long black hair, shot with threads of aubergine and cerulean - the one who happened to be living on his floor.

She was also living in the corner room with Lenora, but that was beside the point.

_So she was telling the truth. _After his break-up with Kat, Sven wasn't sure if he could ever trust another word out of the mouth of a girl his age ever again. The would-be systems analyst hadn't returned to learn how to cook salmon, and he hadn't seen her since that night in the kitchen. Not that he hadn't wanted to. He'd desperately scanned the hallways for her, feeling almost like a stalker.

He hadn't seen her again, but he _had _seen Aidan.

Shaking himself out of that thought, he looked back over at the one person he knew. This would be so easy. With her living on his floor, he had a study partner, as well as a reason to constantly be around the girl he couldn't stop thinking about.

As Instructor Bailey droned on and on about the importance of navigation in flight, all Sven could think of was introducing himself to Lenora's roommate. He felt like everything in his life was finally coming into place. He would have the education, he would have the degree, and he would have the girl. And for the first time in a long time, he felt the distinct possibility that he'd be able to make up for his father's crash.

* * *

Lance could hardly keep his eyes open in class. FLGT101. _Boring._

Not only was the class boring, but he had stayed up far too late the night before. He'd spent the evening hanging out with Cliff and Aidan, who, ironically, were also in this same class with him - and looking just as bad as he did.

Actually, there were a _lot _of people he recognized in this class. Keith. Jeff. Rocky. Kelly. Lisa. And that bubbly blond, Ginger, who Lance couldn't take his eyes off of.

Growing up poor in Pender, he had been surrounded by females who couldn't spend time or money on their appearances. There were lots of plain-faced women walking around with long, straight mousy-brown hair and drab old clothes. So Lance couldn't help but become obsessed with Ginger and her sparkling blue eyes, her perfect halo of blond curls, and her scandalous red lips.

_Funny. I've been making fun of my roommate for being obsessed with the girl with the black lips, but here I am, obsessing over the girl with the red lips._

It was definitely an obsession. He already knew everything about the Texan girl. He knew about her family and her past. He knew that, like him, she was pursuing double specialties in flight and defense. He knew that she roomed with Lisa, and even that Lisa was specializing in Interplanetary Relations.

He definitely knew too much about this girl. Now all he had to do was make his move.

It would be easy. After all, he was the great Lance McClain, and no girl in Nebraska had been able to resist his charms - _or_ his lucky rabbit's foot, but that was another story. He was sure that Ginger would fall for him, just like every other girl he'd managed to get into his bed.

The problem was that he couldn't settle for just one girl. Lance liked girls a lot, probably too much for his own good. He wouldn't ever be happy settling down with just one girl; he wanted to have them all. He was young, he was full of himself, and he wanted to taste every last available girl at the Space Academy.

Ginger? She would be his ultimate prize.

* * *

The twins entered their SYST101 class together. Even if they hadn't known what classroom they were walking into, it was obvious by the students in the room. The lecture hall was filled with every computer nerd, geek, and brainiac available.

But that didn't mean that those people were _nice_.

Pidge and Chip sat at the outskirts of the lecture hall, trying not to draw attention to themselves. They were the outcasts in a room filled with outcasts, and they both knew it. And without the protection of Rocky and Hunk, they were an easy target for teasing and bullying.

Sure enough, one classmate - another sixteen-year-old first-year student - commented loudly to the student sitting next to him, "Geez, I guess they let _babies _into this class now."

Chip lowered his head and stared at his blank computer screen.

The other student retorted just as loudly, "Well, how bad does that make _us _look if they're lettin' a bunch of freakin' _toddlers_ into this class?"

Pidge desperately wished that Hunk and Rocky were around to pummel these guys on their behalf.

Then they heard someone clearing her throat from the back of the lecture hall. "Shut your mouths, losers," she shot out angrily, lifting her messenger bag and moving from her seat. She shot the guys a dirty look as she sat down next to the twins. "You're just jealous 'cuz these two make you _both _look like frickin' idiots."

Pidge and Chip looked over at the black-lipped girl adoringly. "Len, right?" the younger twin asked. "You live on my floor. You're Morgan's roommate."

"Yup," Lenora answered, shooting an icy glare at the guys in question. "Don't worry, I've got your backs. Us systems analysts have to stick together."

"Hmpf. It's too bad that those two jackholes didn't get the memo." Chip scrunched up his face.

She looked over at the twins adoringly. How could anyone look down on them? They were so smart, and they had been through so much. Lenora suddenly felt fiercely protective of both of them. She wouldn't let any of their classmates intimidate them. In the absence of Rocky and Hunk, she would watch over them.

Anyone who wanted to bully them would have to deal with her first. And given her mental status, that was a risk and a half.

* * *

One more class before lunch.

Lisa looked around the classroom as she settled in for RLNS101. Her class was predominantly made up of girls - after all, Interplanetary Relations was a mostly female-dominated specialty. Most of the male cadets didn't understand the subtleties and niceties involved in such a field. It was a shame, really.

The rest of the girls on her floor had chosen to specialize in something different. Morgan had chosen navigation, Cinda had chosen engineering, Lenora had chosen systems analysis, Kelly had chosen flight, and - she was so proud of her roommate - Ginger had chosen a double specialty in flight _and _defense. Lisa was the only one who had chosen Interplanetary Relations. So be it. She was good at it, she was interested in it, and she would make them all proud.

As she waited for class to begin, she found her mind drifting off towards two boys on her floor. Jeff was obviously a sweetheart; she'd learned that on their first night in the cafeteria. He'd looked so interested in Morgan, only for his hopes to be dashed when his roommate Keith swooped in and knocked the would-be navigator off her feet. Lisa had always had a soft spot for the hard-luck cases. After all, _she _was a hard-luck case herself.

Then there was Aidan.

Lisa hated to admit it to herself, but she was positively enchanted by the guy. He was incredibly handsome, he was easy to talk to, and he made her laugh. Being around him made her weak in the knees. The problem was that there was no way he'd find her irresistible enough to go out with her. She had made a habit of blending in with the shadows.

_Oh well, Lis. This stuff happens._

She pulled out her computer pad and her textbook - yes, RLNS101 was one of the few classes in the history of the universe that still used an old-fashioned paper textbook. She tried to kill time by reading the first few pages, but found herself yawning. _Boring._

Suddenly, her ears perked up at the mention of his name. A couple of girls from her building, two who lived on the fourth floor, were chatting animatedly about the guys they thought were cute. "That Aidan Dalloway on the third floor," the blond began, sighing dreamily, "he is _so_ hot. I wonder if he'd be interested in me."

The other girl, seemingly her roommate, rolled her eyes. "Come on, Alicia. Really? The one with the long blond hair?"

Alicia, whose shoulder-length blond bob had a streak of pink in it, nodded enthusiastically. "That's the one, LeeLee. Wow, he is _fine._"

LeeLee rubbed her eyes out of exasperation. "Yeah, but I heard that he's got a thing for the girl in the corner room. The one with the black lips. And not for nothin' here, Hon, but your pink streak ain't half as tough as her black lipstick."

Lisa felt a knot begin to form in her stomach. _I guess I'm not the only one who thinks that Aidan's cute. It's just too bad he's only got eyes for Lenora._ The thought made her sad, and she knew that she would only feel worse if she chose to dwell on it. So, swallowing hard, she put her handsome floormate out of her mind and focused on her upcoming class.

Her specialty. In more ways than one.

* * *

HIST101. It was a required course, regardless of whatever specialty a Space Academy cadet chose, but he supposed there was some merit in it. After all, those who did not remember the past, or did not learn from the mistakes of the past, were doomed to repetition.

And besides, there were plenty of history lessons on navigational errors. Sven cringed as he looked through that part of the history text; fortunately, the crash caused by Alrek Holgersson hadn't been included. _It must not have been bad enough to make it into the book._

He relaxed, but only slightly. Navigation was not a specialty to be taken lightly. More stellar ships crashed and burned on account of navigational errors than nearly every other reason put together. It worried him slightly that there would be so much pressure on him to keep a ship in the sky.

Busy contemplating the gravity of his choice and feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, he almost missed the words, "Oh, great, there's somebody here from the floor. Built-in study buddy."

Sven looked up and into the chocolate-brown eyes that belonged to the girl he'd been obsessing over. His lips parted in shock as she sat down in the seat next to him, dropping her messenger bag on the floor between them. _"Herregud_. You're still alive."

She frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

His shoulders, which had been so tense just moments earlier, began to relax downward. "Well," he teased, "you never showed up in the kitchen to learn how to cook salmon. Since I haven't seen you all weekend, I just assumed that you got food poisoning and died."

She laughed. "You're funny, Man in Black."

"You wear black lipstick, Lenora. Doesn't that make you the _woman _in black?"

"Fair enough." She turned her head to smile at him, and Sven was grateful that he was sitting down - his knees felt _that _weak. He couldn't believe that he was going to have Lenora all to himself for one class all semester. There was no way he was going to let Aidan Dalloway have her now. He wanted to spend the rest of his life staring at her black-lipped smile.

She turned away from him, but Sven couldn't stop looking at her. He thought she was beautiful, and he wanted her to be his girlfriend. And if he wanted a girlfriend after breaking up with Kat, then he _really _liked this girl.

There were so many other things on his mind: navigation, his final drug test, living with Lance and that stupid beanbag chair. But somehow, this girl had infiltrated his entire being. He couldn't lose her, and he couldn't let her get away.

He swore right there that he wouldn't.

* * *

_**Evolutionary Notes:**_

* Instructor Clemens of the engineering department is an homage to my grandparents' next door neighbor. When I was growing up, there was nothing that Mr. Clemens couldn't fix, and my cousins and I would watch in awe as he fixed one vehicle after another on his front lawn. It just goes to show: if you make an impression on me, I honor you in one way or another in my stories.

* I like to recycle characters and places. Remember how I mentioned Alicia Bedford and LeeLee Xiang in my notes from Part 1? Yeah, they showed up here. And Alicia even kept that friggin' pink streak in her hair. ;)

* I am not young by any stretch of the imagination, so I was heavily influenced by certain movies from the 1990s: _The Craft, Hackers, _and _Mallrats,_ just to name a few. So if certain descriptions or personalities bear resemblance to any of these films, well, that's not a coincidence.


	4. Gold Guns Girls

_Author's Note__: All original characters (Lenora, Aidan, Morgan, Kelly, and Christiane) are mine. Otherwise, I own nothing._

_**Part 4: "Gold Guns Girls" by Metric (one of my favorite songs ever; the lyrics are dedicated to **__**Mer3Girl**__**)**_

* * *

_"All the gold_

_And the guns_

_In the world_

_Couldn't get you off..._

_All the lace_

_And the skin_

_In the shop_

_Couldn't get you off_

_All the toys_

_And the tools_

_In the box_

_Couldn't get you off_

_All the noise_

_All the voices never stop_

_I remember when we were gambling to win_

_Everybody else said,_

_'Better luck next time'_

_I don't wanna bend like the bad girls bend_

_I just wanna be your friend_

_Why you giving me a hard time?_

_I remember when we were gambling to win_

_Everybody else said..._

_'Is it ever gonna be enough?'"_

* * *

It was a gold-rimmed watch.

It was so clichéd that she kept her father's watch. And, more importantly, that she kept it stopped at the exact time that he was murdered. It was the one thing she had left of him - _and _the one thing that her mother had allowed her to keep - and so she kept it in the desk drawer, by her bed. Just so that when she slept, it was close by.

She missed her father.

When she woke in the very early hours on Saturday morning, following the first week of classes at the Space Academy, it was still dark outside. On waking, she could only feel dread. It crept into her stomach like a virus, holding her down as though she weighed a thousand pounds. The anniversary of his death. Today marked two years exactly since the day he'd been murdered; he'd been shot at close range during a hold-up gone horrible.

Shaking, she got out of bed. Dressed in her pajamas and robe, she slid her feet into flip-flops and trudged down the hall, shower caddy and towel in hand. True, she didn't _have _to be anywhere this early in the morning, but she'd promised herself. Two years ago, upon learning that her father had been murdered, Lenora had made a vow that she would learn how to shoot a gun. And now that she was an Academy cadet, that promise was easier than ever to keep.

The hot water felt comforting as it ran over her body. She stayed there longer than she had intended, trying to escape from the gravity and pain of her reality. It was easy to forget where she was, what had happened, and what she had promised to do.

She used to be the girl with her father's gold watch. Now? Now she would be the girl with the gun.

* * *

_The boy with the unruly blue-black hair needed to be restrained. He was crying, screaming, writhing against the people trying to hold him back. "YOU CAN'T TAKE HER!" he screeched, tears spilling out of his turquoise eyes and down his face. "YOU CAN'T! SHE'S ALL I HAVE LEFT!"_

_One of the women holding his arms, an older woman in her early fifties, gently smoothed his hair back. "Shh, Keith, it's all right," she said soothingly, watching as her co-workers took the younger girl out of the room. "Your sister will be safe, I promise."_

_There was a terrified expression on the girl's face. "Keith! Don't let them take me!" she wept, struggling against the women trying to usher her out of the room. "You promised me you'd protect me! You __promised__!"_

_"CHRISTY!" Keith screeched. He looked up at the older woman, pleading. "Please don't separate us. Please. She's my sister. She's only eight. Our parents are dead and I can't lose her, too. Please. PLEASE!"_

_"Akira-chan! Akira-chan!"_

_"Eiko-chan!"_

Keith darted up in his bed, gasping for breath. It was a nightmare. Well, it _would _have been a nightmare had it only been confined to his dreams. But this? This was real. This had really happened - the child services department of the state of New York state had really separated him from Christiane. It was the reason he was so terrible with the human bonding experience.

Swallowing hard, he looked over at Jeff. His roommate was still fast asleep, which came as a relief. He hadn't woken him up. But he was still rattled, and he needed to get away from the room as fast as he could.

He was in such a hurry to get out of bed that he bumped into the desk next to his bed. As he did, he knocked his heavy hardcover Japanese book over, and it fell to the floor with a thud.

_That _woke Jeff up.

Keith stood frozen for a moment, silently willing his roommate to stay asleep, but Jeff stirred before lifting his head off the pillow. "Hey man, you okay?" he mumbled, his voice thick with drowsiness. "Why are you up so early?"

He didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to tell the truth, either. "Nightmare," Keith replied quickly, placing his hand on the doorknob. "I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back."

Jeff laid his head back down on the pillow.

After Keith left the room, Jeff found himself unable to fall back to sleep right away. Though his new roommate hadn't said anything, he was fairly sure that the guy was dealing with more issues than he let on. He didn't want to pry; he figured that Keith would spill his guts when he was ready.

Not that his roommate was the only one with problems. Jeff had never forgiven his father for everything he did to his mother - the drinking, the cheating, the fighting, and the abuse - which culminated in the massive blowout argument during which he broke her arm. Jeff had even renounced his surname; he'd changed it from his father's name, _Dukane_, to his mother's name, _Aki_.

But he chose to keep silent about his own problems. For some reason, he had a feeling that, no matter how bad his own issues were, Keith's were a whole lot worse.

* * *

_"Shaye."_

_Aidan's girlfriend sat down on the edge of his dorm bed, shooting him a lazy smile. She looked just as beautiful as she always did. Not even death could make her ugly._

_She blinked her big, dark-brown eyes at him and tossed her mahogany-brown hair with her hand. "Aidan. There you are." Her expression fell. "Where were you? Why didn't you stay by me? Why didn't you protect me?"_

_His heart shattered. "I'm sorry, Shaye. I'm so sorry."_

_She shook her head. "Just promise me that you'll do better next time, okay?"_

_"I promise."_

_"Good." She smiled at him again, but this time, her lips were black._

Aidan awoke, dry heaving - he'd nearly vomited from his dream. Looking across the darkened dorm room, he noted that Cliff was still asleep, his face buried in the pillow. _Well, that's good, _he thought, trying to calm himself down. The nightmare had shaken him to his core. _At least I didn't wake him up._

He missed Shaye desperately. He hadn't meant for her to die; she'd overdosed at her older brother's frat party, and her heart stopped beating. Yes, deep down, Aidan knew that her death wasn't his fault. But he'd promised to stick by her that night, and instead he'd smoked a joint and passed out from it, leaving her victim to the whims of the older guys on campus.

By the time he awoke, she was dead, and he would always feel responsible. And guilty.

Aidan flipped onto his back and laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Shaye had been wearing black lipstick in his dream, and he'd be stupid not to know what that meant. It was about Lenora, and how he _knew _that she was right for him. Almost as though his deceased girlfriend had purposely chosen her for him.

If only that stupid navigator would get out of the way and quit ruining it for him.

* * *

Even though it was early in the morning - _especially _for a Saturday morning - the shooting range was buzzing. The cadets specializing in defense, particularly those who preferred all manners of revolvers, were often there at that time. Weekends were a good time for practice.

Space Marshal Graham was also there, merely observing.

The head of the Galaxy Alliance - and, therefore, Galaxy Garrison - hardly ever showed up to artillery practice. Hardly _ever. _But he'd woken up early that morning, and something in him told him to go. _I should really check in on those cadets, _he'd thought as he dressed in his traditional Garrison uniform. _After all, I specialized in defense when I was in the Academy, too._

He smiled to himself as he watched pairs of gunners go up. His favorite cadet to observe was a third-year student. His impeccable aim, incredible timing, and flawless technique made him the best gunner at the Academy by far. Oh, and his British accent didn't hurt, either.

David Rackens.

"Seven hells, Rackens, that was a bloody good shot!" Jamie Gatehouse, David's less-than-stellar shooting partner by comparison, stood back and admired his friend's handiwork - while mimicking his accent at the same time. His comment was greeted by jeers and groans from their entourage.

Graham recognized all of the third-year students cheering the pair on: Cole Harmonn, Shannon Izumo, Modoch Chukker, Wolo Kreuz, and Anastasia Cartier. The six guys were best friends, roommates, and an overall tight little group. Anastasia had been dating David since their first year at the Academy. She didn't have very many of her own friends, instead preferring to spend her free time with her boyfriend and his crew. He had to admit, he was envious of their friendship; it was like a brotherhood, something wholly unlike what he'd experienced at that age.

"Gatehouse," Wolo groaned, "I thought we agreed: no speaking in a British accent." He winked mischievously. "Unless you're Rackens, of course."

Anastasia rolled her blue-green eyes, flipped her red hair, and tended to her nails.

"Yeah, and now you've ticked off Stacey," Modoch added, taunting the pale blond cadet.

Smiling, Graham turned his attention away from the circle of third-years. _Well, that proves it: at least something can still make me happy. _The Space Marshal hadn't felt joy in a long time, but he couldn't help feeling something similar to it as he observed the camaraderie exuded by that group of friends.

And then she caught his attention.

The only reason Graham knew who she was at all was because of her psych profile, which clearly stated that she wore black lipstick. Without a doubt, it was Lenora Stensson at the beginner's aisle, holding a gun slightly too large for her to carry, aiming at the target and ready to shoot what was obviously her first bullet ever.

She fired.

She hit the bullseye.

Graham drew a sharp breath and held it as he stared at the girl in disbelief. _How in the galaxy did she shoot her first bullet ever and hit the bullseye? Oh, this girl is something special. This girl is...no, I won't think that. Not yet, anyway. _He rubbed his eyes and watched as she fumbled with the gun while reloading. _There's no way she can do it again._

She fired the second round.

She hit the bullseye again.

In disbelief, Graham nodded to no one in particular. Tearing his eyes off her, he moved from his spot in the back to where his favorite third-year gunner was waiting with his friends for his next round. The group was talking, cracking up and joking around when Shannon stilled, being the first to notice the Space Marshal coming their way.

They all quieted.

The Space Marshal stopped in front of the group and informally saluted them. "Cadet Rackens."

David's grey eyes widened in fear as he saluted back. "Yes, Sir?"

"I'd like to ask a favor of you."

"Oh." Relieved, the cadet dropped his arm to his side. "Of course, Sir. What do you need to me to do?"

Graham took David by the shoulders and turned him to face in the direction of the novice shooter. "Do you see that girl over there? Her name is Lenora Stensson. She's a first-year cadet at the Space Academy. This is her first time shooting, and I'd like for her to learn properly from the best." He inclined his head appreciatively. "_You_ are the best, Cadet Rackens. Go teach her."

David saluted. "Of course, Sir. Thank you for the compliment."

Graham walked away, listening to the whispering he'd left behind. "Oh, seven hells, Rackens, that's _amazing_!" Shannon cried out. "The Space Marshal thinks you're the best shooter at the Academy!"

"Well, he _is_," Anastasia bragged. "And don't say _seven hells_, Shan. It sounds stupid in an Irish accent."

"You bloody wanker," Cole snorted in a mocking tone. Though he liked to borrow his roommate's British vocabulary, he rarely borrowed the accompanying accent. "Go on, you heard the man. Go teach the little girl how to properly shoot."

Warily, David eyed Anastasia before going over. She was a very possessive girlfriend, and while he knew that she was proud - and would have no problem bragging about this to anyone who would listen - she was likely not happy that he was being paired up with another female.

She seemed to understand. She didn't look happy about it, but she understood. When Graham asked for a favor, it wasn't smart to turn him down.

Turning his back on his friends, David picked up his own gun and moved to the beginner's section, where he knew he would find this Lenora Stensson.

* * *

When Cliff finally lifted his head off the pillow, he was surprised to see that Aidan was still sleeping. His roommate rarely slept past 0700, even if he'd had a late night. _Hmm. Maybe my mate there had a rough night._

He climbed out of bed and made his way down the the bathroom first, followed by the kitchen. Though he didn't drink coffee, he was a fan of Earl Grey tea with an accompanying glass of orange juice. Oh, and an English muffin. _Breakfast of champions, _he thought with a yawn as he started up the hot water for tea.

Kelly was already seated at the kitchen table, sipping from her own mug of herbal tea and looking over the Space Academy's course catalogue on her reading device. "Good morning, Cliff," she offered, not looking away from her reading material. "Hey, did you know that we have to take a ballroom dance class next year? Here, and I quote," she flipped digital pages to read to him exactly what was written, _"Ballroom Dance is a required course in the etiquette curriculum. It must be taken during the second year at the Space Explorers Academy." _Grimacing, she shut off the virtual book.

"Huh." Cliff sat down at the table with her, waiting for his tea to brew. He liked it strong; he saw no point in weak tea. "That ought to be interesting." While he waited on his Earl Grey, he sipped from his glass of juice. "Tell you what, Kelly: next year, when we sign up for classes, we'll sign up to take Ballroom Dance together and we can partner up. How does that sound?"

"Are you hitting on me, Jack?"

He nearly spit out a mouthful of juice. "Not at _all_, Asimov. I'm just trying to be polite. Besides, why squat where you eat?"

"Good point." She shrugged, carefully pushing her ashy curls out of her face. "Okay, then, it's a deal. Just don't step on my toes."

"Only if you don't step on _mine_." He removed his tea bag and threw it in the garbage. "But why are we even worrying about this right now? We should be thinking about the classes we're actually taking this semester."

"Yeah, I know." She sipped her own tea, and Cliff admired the way her actions mirrored his own. Yes, he truly meant it what he said about not squatting where he ate; there were enough females on campus to not get involved with any of the ones on his floor, but that didn't mean he couldn't be friendly with any of them. "Cinda already left for the engineering lab with Hunk. They said they're getting a head-start on the midterm exam."

"Geez. I'm so glad we're not specializing in engineering."

"Me too."

It was really pleasant, sharing a moment with Kelly. Cliff was grateful for a lot of things, and he liked his roommate, but it would be nice to have a girl as a friend. And the Bajan seemed like the sort of person he'd really _want _as a friend, too.

He was so glad that he'd chosen to leave Australia and pursue an education and career at the Space Academy. It was the right thing for him. He didn't regret his decision for a moment.

* * *

Lenora had just reloaded her gun and was preparing to fire her third shot when she felt a strong hand come around her waist. "You'll need to hold your feet in a different stance," the British voice instructed as the other hand came to her wrist. "And for sure, you'll need a smaller gun. How did you get this one? Who gave it to you?"

She could hardly speak, she was so shocked. "Um...the guy at the check-in desk gave it to me," she answered in a small voice. She felt so stupid, like she was completely out of her league there. "I'm...I'm not quite sure what I'm doing."

The British guy laughed, and for a moment, Lenora was entranced by his grey eyes and his mop of brown hair. "I can tell. But don't worry, you're in good hands with me. Space Marshal Graham sent me over here to instruct you." His eyes smiled even when his lips didn't. "My name is David Rackens. I'm in my third year at the Academy."

"Lenora Stensson." She didn't feel the need to inform him that she was a first-year student - that fact was probably apparent. As soon as they introduced themselves, she felt better. This guy wasn't there to make fun of her; he was genuinely there to help her. "I'm not specializing in defense, I'm specializing in systems analysis. I just really want to learn how to shoot a gun." The reasoning sounded ridiculous even to her.

"Ah. I get it now." David took the gun from her, and wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. "Come on, Love. I'll help you learn to shoot. Now, let's get you a different gun. Something better for you to practice with." He steered her back towards the check-in desk to get her something better-suited for her.

As they made their way over to the desk, she noticed two people staring at her. One, with an expression of pride and hope, was Space Marshal Graham. The other, with a snort of disdain and a toss of her red hair, had to be David's girlfriend.

* * *

Ginger yawned as she made her way to the kitchen. It was Saturday morning - what the heck was she doing up so early? She should have slept until noon at least. _Whatever. I'm up, so I might as well eat._

She rarely ate a big breakfast, maybe just a yogurt and a glass of orange juice. As she headed to the kitchen, she noted Kelly shooting her a small wave as she made her way back to the room she shared with Cinda. Waving back, Ginger turned in through the doorway to the kitchen. Lance was already seated at the table there, sipping a mug of what smelled like coffee and talking to Cliff, who was rinsing out his own mug in the sink.

"Mornin', boys," she mumbled sleepily, heading straight for the refrigerator.

"Good morning, Ginger," Cliff replied cheerfully.

Lance said nothing. Instead, he continued to gaze at her over the rim of his coffee mug, almost as though he was studying her. It was a little unnerving, but she shook it off.

Container of yogurt and a spoon in hand, she joined him and sat down at the table. "What's wrong, McClain? You got a staring problem or something?"

Cliff burst out laughing, and Lance nearly choked as he swallowed his coffee.

She wasn't done yet. "Oh, and are you actually drinking _coffee_, or do you just like a little bit of coffee with your cream and sugar?"

He placed his mug down on the table. "Well, _you're _a little spitfire this morning, aren't you, Ellington?" he cracked as she peeled the foil lid off her yogurt. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" He shot her a mischievous grin. "Oh wait, don't tell me: you got up on the wrong side of someone _else's _bed."

She chucked the foil lid at him. "Don't be a jerk, McClain."

Cliff placed a protective hand on Ginger's shoulder. "She's right, Lance. Don't be a jerk."

"Hey, I'm only a jerk to the people I like." Making a face, he peeled the yogurt-covered foil off his arm.

Rolling her eyes, she quickly stood up and stormed out of the kitchen, heading back down the hallway to the dorm room she shared with Lisa. She'd eat her yogurt at her desk. Perhaps not the way she wanted to start her morning - and certainly not the most hygienic place to eat - but it sure beat trading insults with Lance McClain over the breakfast table. But then again...

_Hmm. I like those sarcastic boys. It's so much more satisfying when I break them._

Looking over at Lisa's sleeping form, she was glad that her roommate was asleep. The girl was so intuitive that she would know almost immediately that Ginger was contemplating breaking Lance. And that would probably worry her.

Heck, it worried _Ginger._

* * *

_**Evolutionary Notes:**_

* When it comes to surnames and Vehicle Voltron, I like to follow Dairugger's lead. I know, it seems odd that an Irish boy (Shannon) would have a Japanese last name (Izumo). Yeah, I know. But I try to go by canon as much as possible. Speaking of which...

* Jeff's last name in the DDP comics is _Dukane_, but I still feel a pull towards Dairugger. In my stories, Jeff will always have the last name of _Aki_, going by my explanation in this chapter.

* There are two tributes in this chapter. The last name of "Gatehouse" refers to a colleague I am very fond of. And Anastasia is a nod to the girl in my dental school who dated the hottest guy in class for all four years...until he dumped her one month before graduation. Ouch.

* Ginger's line - _I like those sarcastic boys. It's so much more satisfying when I break them - _is a personal mantra of mine. Don't believe me? Head over to Fiction Press and look up my "Maneater in the City" series.


	5. All the Things She Said

_Author's Note__: All original characters (Lenora, Aidan, Morgan, Kelly, and Christiane; David, Cole, Jamie, Anastasia, and Andrew) are mine. Otherwise, I own nothing._

_**Part 5: "All The Things She Said" by t.A.T.u.**_

* * *

"Dude, I cannot believe midterms are next week," Lance grumbled to his roommate as they readied themselves for the day. "I mean, not that I'm expecting either the flight or the defense exams to be difficult, but it's just...geez, I feel like we just got here."

"Agreed." Sven couldn't believe it, either. He'd been trying - unsuccessfully - to ask Lenora out on a date since their first history class together. For some reason, he couldn't work up the nerve to do it. He was too nervous; after all, the last time he'd been out on a date, he was with Kat, and they had both been high on Oxycontin. After they'd plowed through so many Absolut and sodas that they lost count, they had fumbled around in her apartment, kissing and groping, but he didn't go all the way with her. How could he? They were too high and too drunk. And besides, he was still a virgin. So they'd passed out next to each other in her bed in various states of undress.

"How bad do you think your navigation exam is gonna be?"

Sven shrugged. "I'm not sure. But as long as we can use calculators, I should be okay." He picked up his own messenger bag - black leather, of course. "I'm more worried about History. I have no idea how I'll ever remember all of those dates and names."

Lance's face broke into an amused grin. "Dude, why don't you ask your _study buddy_ to help you?" he teased. "Come on, man, it's obvious how you feel about Len. It's written all over your ugly mug."

"Shut up, Lance. _Herregud."_

"Ask her out, Dummy." Lance's voice was firm. "You're gonna regret it if you don't, especially if someone else moves in on her and sweeps her off her feet." He was uncharacteristically serious. "I mean it, Viking. You know that Aidan's trying to lock her down, and rumor has it that this guy Andrew on the fourth floor is interested in her, too. You're gonna lose your chance with her if you don't make your move soon."

"Thank you, Lance." Sven sounded annoyed with his roommate for butting in, but really, the only person he was annoyed with was himself. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just grow the _cojones _needed to ask the girl out? It wasn't like it was _that _difficult. "I'll take that into consideration." He paused. "And how in the world did you come up with the name _Viking_?"

"You _are _a Viking, Dummy."

They left the room, with Sven rolling his eyes and locking the door behind them. They made a silent trek onto the quad and moved in separate directions - Lance headed towards the defense department, Sven headed towards Navigation. But they both knew that Lance was right. If Sven didn't step up to the plate soon, he'd lose his chance with the girl with the black lips.

* * *

They were running late.

It had been a rare night; both Jeff _and _Keith had slept soundly without nightmares. They slept _so _soundly that they had slept through their alarm and were now racing around the dorm room, frantically pulling on clothes, running combs through hair, and rubbing on deodorant while trying to get their materials together for class.

The knock on the door sounded like a death knell.

"Come in," Jeff called out distractedly, trying to pull a boot onto his foot.

Morgan opened the door and looked at the two roommates before bursting into laughter. "Oh, gods, you two are _crazy_!" she shrieked, clapping her hands together with glee. "What a heck of a way to start the morning!"

Keith straightened his cadet uniform shirt before throwing on his backpack. "And good morning to you too, Sunshine." The words sounded sarcastic, but Jeff could see that his roommate was smitten with the violet-eyed navigator. And judging by the expression on _her _face, the feeling was mutual.

Jeff pulled his other boot on, then stood up and grabbed his messenger bag. "Come on, Keith. Let's get to flight class." He grabbed the girl's arm. "You too, Morganza. You've gotta get to your navigation class on time."

She raised an eyebrow. _"Morganza?"_

Jeff winked. "Did I stutter?"

She smacked him on the arm. "Whatever you say..._Amigo."_

Keith shook his head as he locked the door behind them. "You two," he pointed out, "sound like brother and sister. You babble on about stupid stuff like a couple of idiots."

Morgan stuck her tongue out at him. "Takes one to know one, man." She paused, holding her hand out for him. He hesitated for only a moment before he reached out and took it. Smiling, she squeezed.

_Wow. We're holding hands now, _Keith thought, worrying about the next step.

* * *

It didn't take long before Hunk and Cinda were inseparable in class. It wasn't because they were living on the same floor; no, they just _got _each other. Appearance-wise, they were both outcasts, and they both _loved _engineering. As Hunk had previously mentioned, there wasn't anything built that he couldn't fix, and though Cinda wasn't quite that good, she was quickly getting there..._and_ showing up the rest of her classmates in the process.

As they killed the last few minutes before the start of class, she looked over at the big guy. "Hey Hunk," she began, her eyes sparkling, "I was just thinking that we should go out and celebrate after midterms are over."

He shrugged. "Sounds good, Cin. What did you have in mind?"

Her lips slicked into a smile. "What do you say we go on a cheap pizza tour of the city? You know, see who sells the best pizza at the best price?"

_Mmm, pizza. _Hunk was a huge fan of pizza; it reminded him of his four older brothers and how he used to hold his own against them by tossing slices at them, aiming directly for their faces. Back in Tennessee, of course, the pizza wasn't that great and was better suited as a means of defense than as food. But in New York, that was a different story entirely. "Wow. Picking out the best pizza joint based on a price-to-flavor ratio? You're talkin' my language, Cin."

She laughed. "I thought so."

Hunk rubbed his hands together in excitement. "Wow, this is gonna be _huge_. I'm gonna need to do some research." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "And we'll need all the help we can get. I betcha Rocky would like to get in on this, too. Oh, and Lance. And if _Lance _is in on it, then I can guarantee Cliff and Aidan'll be in, too."

Cinda's face fell, but he didn't notice.

This wasn't supposed to be a big production. This was supposed to be a quiet celebratory moment between the two of them. A _date_, she supposed these Earthlings would call it. And now he was turning it into a group effort that would take all of the meaning and intimacy out of it.

She sighed.

* * *

The twins felt just as safe with Lenora around as they did with Hunk and Rocky. Ever since that first day in SYST101 when she'd come to their defense, no one had dared to tease or bully them. Which was good for reasons other than the obvious. With the first wave of midterms coming, Chip was sure that he and Pidge would garner the top grades in the class. And once word got out about _that_, well, he was sure that the torment would pick right back up...and continue for the next five years until graduation.

She sat next to them as she always did, shooting nasty glares at anyone who would dare try to pick on her boys. Fortunately, she hadn't needed to do that as much lately. Which was good for everyone involved. Though she was small, Lenora could be pretty intimidating when she had to be.

"So, do you two need an escort to your next class?" she asked as she began to pack up her messenger bag. During their first two weeks at the Academy, she would walk the twins to their next class, just to ensure that none of their classmates bothered them. It usually made her one of the last cadets into History class, but she didn't care. Sven always saved the seat next to him for her.

_Sven._

She liked the Norwegian, she really did. But she was confused about her feelings for him. She knew, she just _knew_, that there was some sort of connection. A spark. She was drawn to him, and she had a feeling that he felt the same way about her as well.

But he wouldn't ask her out.

Of course, _she _could have asked _him _out, but she had no business doing so. She was still broken from her father's murder. How could she ever love anyone ever again? Her father had been taken from her. It would be too easy for her to love someone, and for _him _to be taken away as well.

She couldn't love Sven. It would hurt too much when she lost him, which she inevitably would. So it would be easier for her to go on dates with guys she didn't care about, guys she knew she wouldn't fall in love with. So that it wouldn't be so hard when he was taken away from her.

Because, sooner or later, they were _all _taken away from her.

Breaking out of her thoughts, she noticed the twins both shaking their heads. "No, I actually think we're okay, Len," Pidge informed her. "I think, between you and our roommates, any would-be bullies have been tamed into submission."

She smiled. Pidge was too young to utter such a phrase. It just proved how advanced he and his twin brother were. "Well, I'm glad for that, Pidge, more than you know. I mean, I'm not as big as Hunk or Rocky, so it's nice to know that I'm just as intimidating."

Chip nodded. "Well, you can be when you want to be, Len." He reached out for a hug. "Now, you go on and get to History class on time, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, hugging him back, and all the while thinking about Sven.

* * *

Lenora was already in the classroom when Sven walked through the doorway. The seat next to her - _his _seat - was temporarily occupied. Andrew, that guy who lived on the fourth floor of their building, was in his spot, and he strained to overhear what they were talking about.

"...so if he's _not _your boyfriend, I'd like to take you out for pizza tonight," Andrew told her point-blank.

_Are you kidding me? He's putting the moves on her in History class? _

"We could study afterwards, if you want." Andrew shot her a sincere smile, one that would give Aidan Dalloway's a run for its money.

She shrugged. "No, he's not my boyfriend. We just spend a lot of time together 'cuz we live on the same floor. So yeah, I guess pizza's okay. What time do you wanna go?"

Sven clenched his teeth together as Andrew replied, "How about six? I'll come down to your floor and get you, and we'll go from there."

"Sure. Sounds good."

Narrowing his slate-blue eyes, the Norwegian stood over his desk, looking down at the both of them. "You're in my seat," he huffed to Andrew, the glare on his face enough to scare the poor guy away. But it wasn't enough to scare Lenora. She stared up at him defiantly, almost as if she was challenging him, but she said nothing as he sat down next to her.

He was worthless during the class. It was a good lecture today, too - something about twin planets in the Far Universe, Arus and Pollux, and how their bloodlines had crossed. But it was wasted on the young navigator; throughout the entire class, all Sven could think about was the fact that Andrew had asked Lenora out on a date. The girl he was crazy about would be going out on a date with another guy, all because he hadn't acted quickly enough. He decided he would have to remedy the situation after class, when they were walking back to the dorm.

When class was finally dismissed, Lenora darted up out of her chair, her messenger bag already around her shoulder. Sven jumped up after her, shooting a deadly look over at Andrew as he did, in an effort to catch up with her.

She knew. She knew how annoyed he was at himself and at Andrew, and she probably thought that he was annoyed with _her_, too. Which he could never be.

As he darted after her, it took everything in him to catch up with her. She was quick. By the time he made it out of the building, she was nearly halfway across the quad, her messenger bag angrily bouncing along the side of her body.

Cursing himself, he darted along the grass. He couldn't let her return to the dorm without him. If she did, he never would have had the chance to tell her how he felt. This was it. It was do or die.

When she was within reach, he grabbed her bag. "Len! Would you please stop?"

She whipped around, glaring at him in a mix of anger and disbelief. "What?" she asked incredulously. "What do you want outta my life, Holgersson? Yeah, I'm going on a date with Andrew tonight. So WHAT?" She screamed the last word loud enough for it to be heard across the quad.

He clamped his hand down on her shoulder, more forcefully than he expected to. "Don't go out with him."

"And why not?" Her face was flushed with anger and frustration. "Give me one good reason."

"Because you don't really want to go out with him." When he said the words, he truly believed them. Sven felt something special for Lenora, something that transcended common lust or anything else the average sixteen-year-old boy might feel, and somehow he just knew that she felt the same way for him. "You want to go out with _me_. You're using him to get back at me for not asking you out."

"You are the most arrogant jerk I have ever met." She stared at him indignantly for a moment before shaking his hand off her shoulder and moving away. Unfortunately, her ankle gave way underneath her as she turned, and she fell to the ground in embarrassment.

Instead of laughing at her, Sven extended his arm. "Let me help you up, _Elskede_."

"Huh? What did you just call me?" Forgetting her annoyance for the moment, she accepted his hand and let him help her off the ground. "Ow. Friggin' ankle." She bent over to rub the joint that had given out on her.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure," she grimaced. "As good as the day I came off the press." She dusted her cadet uniform off. "It's 'cuz I'm in these boots and not my heels. I walk better in heels 'cuz I'm so short."

He tilted his head sideways for a moment, examining her unnervingly with his slate-blue eyes. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he lifted her up and began to carry her back to the dorm. A time like this called for drastic measures.

She was too embarrassed to be shocked. "Hey! HEY! Put me DOWN, Holgersson!" She wanted to pummel him, but she was afraid he'd drop her if she did, and he was tall, so it was a long way to the ground.

"Will you relax already?" he said to her. "I'm not putting you down until we're in the building, so quit fighting me."

"Fine." She accepted her humiliation and pulled her messenger bag up to cover her face. She didn't want anyone to see her being carried back to the dorm, especially not Aidan or Morgan. She'd never hear the end of it.

Though she wasn't looking, she could tell just by the amount of time it was taking that he was going to the building's rear entrance - the one that mainly served as a fire escape. She was surprised about what she was feeling. She'd been an emotional black hole for two years, since the night her father was gunned down. She wasn't even excited about getting pizza with Andrew. But Sven? This guy made her feel emotions again, anger and humiliation and indignation and...

Something else.

She heard the door open, and he put her down on the first step of the staircase. "There you go, _Elskede_. How's your ankle?"

"It's okay." From her spot on the first step, they were almost the same height. "What did you call me?"

_"Elskede."_

"What's it mean?"

He jammed his hands in the pockets of his cadet uniform and looked down. "It means 'Beloved' in Norwegian."

Her heart, which she'd closed off to feeling anything once her father was in the ground, began to swell a little. She didn't want it to, but there was something so sincere about this guy that she couldn't help it. "Why me, Holgersson?" she asked him softly. "What is it about me in particular? I'm no good for anyone. The people who love me all end up hurt - or worse."

He shrugged. "I don't know what it is about you. I just feel like there's _something _about you, and I'd be stupid if I let you get away. So no, you can't go on that date with Andrew tonight. I'm not denying you permission, I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to hurt him."

She scowled again. They were right back to where they left off. "That's not up to you to decide. And besides, a girl's gotta eat." She tried to turn to go up the stairs, but he grabbed her wrist and held her fast.

From behind her, he whispered into her ear, "Why do you want to hurt _him _just to hurt _me_? Spare everyone the drama and the hurt feelings. Stay in with me tonight. We'll study, we'll get pizza...I'll even kick Lance out of the room."

If she could have melted into his arms, she would have. Turning back to face him, Lenora wrapped her arms tightly around Sven's neck, and felt even better when he clasped his hands around her waist. This wasn't supposed to happen, but apparently, it was going to happen whether she liked it or not.

It had been a long time since she'd let herself feel anything at all.

* * *

Ginger sat at her desk, preparing for her defense exam, while Lisa sat across the room at her desk, reviewing her notes from the day's Interplanetary Relations class. Neither one of them wanted to bring up the boys on their minds - Lance and Aidan, respectively - so they buried their thoughts in their study materials. They were so absorbed in what they were doing that the knock at the door took them off-guard.

"Geez," Ginger grimaced, opening the door. "Nothing like a good shock to get the blood flowing through your system."

Cinda stood across from her in the hallway, Kelly right behind her. "Are you girls busy?" she asked. "We don't want to interrupt if you two are studying for midterms."

Ginger shook her head. "Eh, I could use a break." She looked over her shoulder at Lisa. "How about you, Roommate? Could you use a study break, too? Or shall I take these lovely ladies and move this conversation down to the den?"

Lisa closed up her computer. "No way. Come on in, girls. I could use a break, too."

"Thanks," Kelly replied, pushing Cinda into the room. With a sigh, the Miran girl sat down on Ginger's bed, and her roommate sat down next to her. Lisa spun around in her chair to face them as Ginger sat cross-legged on top of her desk.

"Spill it," Ginger ordered.

Cinda let out a long exhale. "It's Hunk," she offered, shaking her head. "I feel like he's my other half."

Lisa and Ginger exchanged glances. "That's so _cute_!" Lisa squealed dreamily, momentarily forgetting about Aidan. "Wow, I'm so happy for you, Cin! Your study buddy, your engineering partner, _and _your boyfriend all rolled up in one package!"

Kelly rolled her hazel eyes. "No, not quite, Lis."

"No?" She looked disappointed.

"No," Cinda grumbled. "I asked him out on a date - just to get pizza after we finish midterms next week - and he turned it into some sort of..._event_. He started recruiting people to go with us. _Ugh."_ She laid her head back against the wall. "Great. The very first guy I ever ask out on a date, and he totally misses the point."

Ginger snorted. "Dude. The guys on this floor are so _stupid_."

"Yeah. Tell me about it," a new voice joined in from the doorway.

The four girls looked over to their guest. Morgan had joined them, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. Raising an eyebrow, she continued, "I've been working on that Keith Kogane since the moment I met him. And he still has no freakin' clue."

"Come join us." With a wave of her arm, Lisa motioned over to her bed. Morgan plopped down onto it, sighing in frustration.

"So where's _your _roommate?" Kelly asked.

"She went out for pizza with that dude Andrew from the fourth floor." Morgan shook her head disgustedly. "From what I've gathered, Sven's not taking it too well. Lance has been holed up with Keith and Jeff all night. He even brought his beanbag chair with him."

"Ha." Ginger could picture the scenario.

Cinda raised an eyebrow. "So you've got me crushing on Hunk and he's oblivious, Morgan crushing on Keith and he's oblivious, and now we've got Sven crushing on Len and _she's_ oblivious...huh." She shrugged. "I guess that just proves one thing."

"What's that?" Lisa asked.

"It's not just the guys on this floor who are stupid."

* * *

Lance was pretty sure he'd never been so scared in his life, and he'd been arrested prior to coming to the Space Academy, so that was _really _saying something. Sven had thrown a fit of epic proportions when he found out that Lenora was still going out with Andrew, and Lance's sense of self-preservation kicked in. He'd grabbed the beanbag chair and hightailed it out of the room, seeking refuge with his neighbors.

The longer he stayed in their dorm room, the more attached Jeff got to his beanbag chair. "Hey, McClain, I really like this thing," he'd shot out as he furrowed his body into it. "I'm debating on whether or not it should leave this room."

"Keep dreaming, Aki," Keith had retorted in reply, not bothering to look up from his study materials.

Lance excused himself from Keith's and Jeff's room for a moment, seeking solitude in the kitchen. _Not exactly what I wanted to do with my evening,_ he grunted to himself. Moving to the refrigerator, he poured himself a glass of soda, then sat down at the kitchen table. _See, I __told__ the blasted Viking that this would happen. I warned him. He's got nobody to blame but himself._

"Geez, Cadet McClain, you look like you just lost your best friend. And from the rumors circulating around the hallway, it looks like you really did."

Lance looked up and into the sky-blue eyes that belonged to that bubbly blond girl. _Hey, maybe my night's looking up. _"Cadet Ellington. I'm surprised to see you here."

Ginger opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water. "I thought you were with Keith and Jeff. That's what Morgan told us, anyway."

He shrugged. "Yeah. But I just wanted to get out of there for a moment." Making a face, he added, "It would have been nice if my dumb Viking of a roommate hadn't thrown a temper tantrum. I actually would've preferred to study in _my _room tonight."

"Yeah." She sat down at the table next to him. She was close. A little _too _close; Lance was tempted to lick her. He bet she tasted as good as she looked. "The girls are all having a powwow in my room, so I get it." She shrugged, then twisted the cap off her water bottle. As she tilted her head back to swallow, he couldn't take his eyes off her elegant throat. "I just needed a moment to myself, you know?"

"Wow. And you chose to spend that free moment with _me_? I feel honored."

Ginger replaced the cap on her water bottle and set it down on the table. Turning towards him, she leaned in so that her lips were practically on top of his. "And you _should_," she breathed, staring straight into his eyes for only a second or two before backing away.

He watched in astonishment as she stood up, grabbed her water, and headed out of the kitchen. "Good night, Cadet McClain," she called as she exited the room. She didn't even bother to look back over her shoulder.

Lance sat there in shock for a moment as he processed what had just happened, and then he grinned to himself. She was _definitely _a worthy opponent. He was correct in his earlier assessment: Ginger really would be his ultimate prize.

* * *

After dinner, Andrew had offered to escort his date back to her room, but she declined. After all, it was just one more step after that before he attempted to kiss her, and she just didn't feel like it. She'd been wrong in her ideas about dating guys she didn't really care about. It didn't make her feel better, knowing that it wouldn't hurt when the guy was gone; the whole thing made her feel terrible.

Even worse, she hadn't been able to keep her mind off Sven. He had been so insistent that afternoon. It was obvious that he wanted to be with her. And what had she done? She'd hurt him by going out with Andrew. And she'd really prettied herself up in a pair of dark-washed trouser jeans, a long-sleeved black jersey shirt that stretched over her curves and displayed her décolletage, and of course her black leather platform boots with the four-inch heel. She finished with plain silver stud earrings, a few silver rings, and the long A-line black leather coat she'd stolen from her mother. _My mom. Whatever anyone wants to say about her, Angelie Nabors-Stensson has impeccable style._

She'd painted her lips liberally with black lipstick, almost as a warning to Andrew to keep away. Not that he cared; he'd tried several times to kiss her. She couldn't stomach the thought. The idea of him touching or kissing her made her spine crawl.

She took the side stairwell instead of the main stairway back up to the third floor. It would bring her right to her room, and besides, she didn't want to click-clack down the hall in her heels and alert everybody to the fact that she had returned from her date. Once she was in front of her dorm room, Lenora fumbled with the key to unlock it.

_"Elskede. _You look absolutely stunning."

She didn't need to look over to know who was there, but she did anyway. "Thank you, Sven," she mumbled, slipping the key into the pocket in her jeans. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, head down. He looked absolutely miserable. "How long have you been waiting for me to come home?"

He lifted his head to look at her. "Long enough."

"Oh." She walked over and stood in front of him. "Listen, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I was horrible to do that to you. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

His lips pressed into a tight line, but she could see the hope in his slate-blue eyes. "I'm sorry, too. It's my fault. I should have asked you out sooner."

"It's not too late for us to go on a date."

"Yes, it is." He shook his head. "Because I don't want just a date with you, Lenora. I want _you_. By my side. As my girlfriend." He swallowed. "I went crazy tonight, thinking about you with Andrew. Go ahead and ask Lance. He'll tell you that I barely let him back into the room ten minutes ago."

"Sven, that's _ridiculous_."

"I know. I _also _know that I don't want to lose you. Not to Andrew, not to Aidan."

She frowned. "Sven, I can't just commit myself like that."

He held his breath, and the hope faded from his eyes.

_What's wrong with me? _she thought as she stared back at him. _I shouldn't be drawn to this guy. I __shouldn't__. I'm no good for anyone._

Even as she tried to fight it, she leaned forward and kissed him.

He was surprised at first, but he kissed back. After a few seconds, they found themselves forgetting that they were in the hallway and not caring if any of their floormates saw them. Sven found himself more than willing to go all the way with her. Something he couldn't do after seventeen months of dating Kat, he _wanted _to do after thirty seconds of kissing a girl he'd known for roughly a month.

He'd have to kick Lance out of the room again.

Putting her hands on his face, she broke the kiss. "Sven," she stammered, "we have to stop. I'm not your girlfriend. And besides..." her voice trailed off as she stared at the floor. "I'm...I mean, I've never..."

"You're a virgin." He nodded. "It's okay, _Elskede_. I am, too."

She exhaled, relieved. At least he understood. "But I'm still not your girlfriend."

He draped his arm around her shoulder. "That's fine. Whenever you're ready, you'll let me know. But I hope you realize, Lenora, that I'm not about to give you up. I don't want you to go on dates with anyone else. But I don't think you will. I can tell just by the way you kissed me that you know we're right for each other."

She removed the key from her pocket and unlocked her door. "Good night, Sven." She closed it before he could reply.

Stunned by what had just happened, he walked back to his room, shaking. She was so close to being his. He knew it; he could just _feel_ it. He paused in front of his door to compose himself, and then, when he felt steady, he opened it.

Lance looked up at him as he closed the door behind him. He studied him for a moment before he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he fell off his mattress and onto the beanbag chair next to his bed.

_"What?"_ Sven asked, annoyed.

His roommate could hardly answer - he was laughing too hard. "Dude...your face..."

"What _about _it, McClain?"

Lance was hysterical. "You are _covered_ in black lipstick."

* * *

_**Evolutionary Notes:**_

* The character of Kat (Katrine Thorstad) is based on Katrina, Sven's girlfriend in Dynamite's "Voltron: Year One" comic series. Of course, Sven's drug-abuse problems also have their root in those comics.

* I like to interject a little dental humor every now and again. Angelie Nabors-Stensson, Len's mother, is a prime example. In dentistry - specifically, the field of periodontics - a Nabors probe is a tool used to determine a tooth's furcational involvement. In layman's terms, it's a hand instrument that records the amount of bone loss between the roots of a tooth. And that, friends, is your useless trivia for the day. File it away in case you're ever on a game show. :)

* My college roommate and I usually referred to each other as simply "Roommate." That's the reason Ginger and Lisa often do that, and continue to carry on the tradition past their Academy years.


	6. Glad You Came

_Author's Note__: All original characters (Lenora, Aidan, Morgan, Kelly, and Christiane; David, Cole, Jamie, Anastasia, and Andrew; Commander Moriarty and Uncle Jacob) are mine. Otherwise, I own nothing._

_**Part 6: "Glad You Came" by The Wanted**_

* * *

"You're tense this morning, Lenora. What gives?"

Standing behind the cadet, David shifted her hips again, drawing his hands up her sides to her shoulders, which he straightened out. "Focus. You'll never shoot properly if your body is out of alignment."

"Hmph. But isn't it true that in combat, there's really no such thing as the proper alignment for shooting?" she challenged.

"Eh, fair enough." David sighed, shooting a glance towards his entourage. Jamie and Shannon, the two roommates, had partnered up in his absence. Modoch and Wolo were up next, and Cole sat with Anastasia. He internally winced; he knew how much his roommate and his girlfriend disliked each other. "But if you don't master the basics first, you won't have the skill to roll with the proverbial punches when you _can't _use them."

"Touché, oh wise one."

Half of his mouth curled into an amused grin. He actually enjoyed working with this first-year. She was smart, she was quick-thinking, and she followed instructions. Plus, she picked up shooting fast. In the five weeks they'd been working together, she'd all but surpassed most of the other cadets, including fifth-years and those who specialized in defense. "All right, Love, that's enough. Whatever's making you tense, ditch it."

That wasn't so easy.

She knew why she was on edge. It had taken her all week - and several midterm exams - to decide what she wanted to do romantically. She knew she didn't want to pursue Andrew further, and Aidan? Well, she felt bad that he had tried so hard to charm her, and she hated to shoot him down, but she didn't want _him_, either. She knew she wanted to be with the dark Norwegian. It was merely a matter of tying up loose ends now.

"I'll try, but I promise nothing."

David stood back and watched as she fired. Graham was right; this girl really did have natural raw talent. _Another bullseye. Imagine if she had specialized in defense. She would blow all of her competition out of the water. Seven hells, she practically does __now__._

"Great job, Love," he congratulated her. "I want you to know that someday, you'll be _my _shooting partner. And when that day comes, you will be the last shooting partner I ever have. That's a testament to how good you are."

Lenora beamed with pride.

* * *

Because midterms were over, Hunk had nothing to study. He knew where he belonged in terms of engineering, but outside of that, he was an outcast. He had no friends and he had no interests. So, that Saturday morning, he headed over to one of the buildings in the defense department. The one which held free beginner's martial arts classes. Hey, it was a start.

Despite his formidable size, Hunk knew nothing about self-defense. He argued that he didn't really _need _to; his sheer height and muscular frame were enough to detract any would-be attackers.

Usually, anyway.

At the check-in desk, he was given a karate uniform to return at the end of class. It was a little bit snug and a little bit short, but he didn't care. He'd spent his entire life wearing his older brothers' hand-me-downs, and since _he _had been the proverbial runt of the litter, he'd hardly ever worn anything that fit him properly - usually, he was swimming in whatever he was wearing. It was nice to feel like a man too big for his clothes for once.

"Ah, so I see you noticed they don't make these things for guys our size."

Hunk spun around and came face-to-face with Rocky, who was obviously having the same problem with his uniform as he was. "Nope. That, my friend, they do not."

Rocky smirked. "What, no engineering? Haven't you been studying non-stop for that since the day classes started?" His grin and tone both grew teasing. "And wow, I can't believe you're actually doing something without _Cinda_."

Hunk's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

The Brooklynite laughed. "What, you haven't noticed that the two of you do _everything_ together? That you're practically joined at the hip?"

A shrug. "So what?"

"Well, you know, I just thought that you two were _together_ together, that's all. But I guess not."

Hunk shook his head emphatically. "No. We are not."

"Good." Rocky playfully threw his hands up in a defensive stance. "So I can beat you up and I won't have to explain to her later why your face looks even uglier than normal. _Or _apologize to her for it."

The big engineer squinted menacingly at his friend. "No...but _I_ will have to apologize to your roommate for you being unable to leave your dorm room this weekend."

Game on.

* * *

Laundry.

Jeff and Keith returned from the laundry room, carrying baskets of clean clothes. The Academy provided no laundry service, but it _did_ offer washers and dryers in the basement of every dorm building. Jeff often laughed over the fact that Keith had hardly anything to wear, while he himself had enough clothes and undergarments to last him for an entire month straight.

"Oh, laundry day," Jeff mused as he folded a pair of jeans. They hadn't worn many civilian clothes since the semester began; they all spent way too much time dressed in their cadet uniforms. "I miss wearing jeans every day. Huh, maybe if I had a date to go on..."

Keith rolled his turquoise eyes. "_Really_, Jeff? Well, how about Morgan? She's around all the time, and you two seem to get along famously. Why don't you ask _her _out so that things can finally return to normal around this place?"

Jeff dropped his attention back to his pair of jeans. He quietly folded them, averting his eyes from his roommate's keen gaze. "You know, man, I _wanted _to in the beginning," he pointed out quietly, picking a T-shirt from his laundry basket. "And I still would, if she wasn't so smitten with _you_."

Keith's jaw dropped open. "What are you even talking about?"

"I'm saying that Morgan's crazy about you, man, and you're too dense to even notice."

The mullet-topped cadet seemed shocked. His jaw dropped open, too stunned to even respond in good time. _Really? Morgan likes me? She really likes __me__ over Jeff? Wow. The mind reels._ "Wait, Jeff...you think she really likes _me_?"

Jeff almost choked. _"Think?_ I _know_ she really likes you, man."

Keith froze. Then, after a few moments of stunned silence and no movements, he began to shake. "She can't like me, Jeff. She _can't_. I...I wouldn't know how to be a good boyfriend. I'm a wreck. And after everything I've been through, I wouldn't even know how to start. It's like I've been beaten down."

His roommate laughed quietly. "Keith, my friend, we've _all _been beaten down. Some of us physically in addition to mentally and emotionally." He paused as he thought about his mother's broken arm. It had long since healed, but the emotional scars remained. "I think the only thing you can do is jump in head-first. Sink or swim, man, sink or swim."

Though their door was open, they heard a knock on the frame. Looking over, they saw the girl in question, her violet eyes smiling almost as much as her lips as she looked over at Keith.

"Morganza! Come on in," Jeff welcomed her. "What are you up to?"

Keith returned to being a frozen shell.

Morgan sat down on Jeff's bed next to the laundry basket, leaning back against the wall. "I was wondering if you guys wanted to get lunch with me. I was thinking Mexican. Mmm, chips and salsa." She was practically salivating at the thought. "I was gonna ask my roommate to go with me, but she's got a busy afternoon of breaking hearts in front of her."

Those words finally got Keith to come out of his practically-catatonic state. "Oh?"

"Yeah. She said she had to talk to Aidan, and then to Andrew, and then to Sven."

Jeff shot his roommate a quick glance. "Dude, if Lance and his beanbag chair end up in here again tonight, I can't be held responsible for my actions if he tries to take the chair away from me. It's not leaving this room again."

"Jeff, it's not your chair!"

Morgan burst out laughing. "So is that a yes? Will the two of you come get lunch with me?"

_Sink or swim. _Keith nodded. "I'd like that. How about you, Jeff?"

His roommate nodded. "I'm in."

"Cool!" Morgan jumped off the bed and hugged Jeff. "Thanks, Amigo."

"Don't thank me. Thank my roommate here."

Looking Keith over for a moment, she draped an arm around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Keithy. I'm glad you finally agreed to let loose a little. Now, let's go get lunch. You can finish your laundry later, it ain't goin' anywhere."

The three left the room, and Jeff locked the door behind them. As they headed down the stairwell, Keith hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and taking Morgan's hand. Smiling at him, she laced her fingers with his, and they made their way down to the street.

* * *

Aidan hated the weekends. Because he lived in New York, his dad often wanted him to come home to Albany. That was the last place he wanted to go; it reminded him too much of Shaye. It also reminded him of how his mother had chosen drugs over her family and had abandoned her husband and child, but that didn't weigh on him nearly as much as his dead girlfriend did.

Today, Aidan really, _really_ wanted to go home. But he wouldn't. He'd stick it out until next weekend and leave after classes next Friday. That way he would have the entire weekend away from the dorm. Away from _her_. Lenora Stensson had come into his life and served him a verbal sucker punch to the gut.

Cliff had gone to the gym - he hated treadmills and the like, but he loved the outdoor track. He and Kelly had recently become running partners, even going so far as to wake up early to go for a run before classes began. Yeah, well, now that it was getting colder, Aidan doubted that they would keep their routine up for much longer.

He was miserable, and he wanted everyone else to be just as miserable as he was.

When Cliff returned from his afternoon run with Kelly, he found his roommate sulking at his desk. _What's wrong? The chap is always in a good mood. _"Mate, you look like you lost your puppy. What's bothering you?" He slicked back his sweat-soaked hair with his hand.

"Hey Mate, how do you feel about getting out of this place next weekend? My dad's been bugging me to come up to Albany to visit, and I'll be honest, I _really _don't wanna go there by myself." It was too soon to tell him about his mom, and especially about Shaye. But it was true: as much as he wanted out of the dorms right now, he couldn't face going back home alone.

The Australian nodded, but frowned at the same time. "Of course, Mate. But that's not what's bothering you. What's wrong?"

"Ugh. It's Len." Aidan collapsed his head into his arms, resting his upper body on the desk. "She was in here for about an hour with me. We had a long, _long_ conversation about how she thinks I'm great, but she doesn't think we'd be great together." He looked up. "It was freakin' _annoying_."

Cliff snorted. "So that's it? A girl? You're getting yourself worked up over a _girl_?"

"Heck no, Jack. It's just that she annoyed me with all her whiny it's-not-you-it's-me talk, and then my dad called and annoyed me about coming home to see him, so I'm just annoyed all the way around." He scrunched up his face. So what if he was telling a little white lie? The truth was, Lenora's declaration had gutted him, and it made him _want _to go home. But there was no way he was ever going to admit to that.

"Oh. So you're annoyed?" Cliff peeled his sweaty gym T-shirt off his chest and tossed it into the laundry bin. "Tell me how you really feel."

He rolled his eyes at his roommate's sarcasm. "I hate you, Jack."

"No, you don't, Mate." He reached into his closet and pulled out a robe. "You love me. I'm the best Mate you'll ever have, believe me. But for now, I've got to shower before I stink us all out to the high heavens."

As Cliff made his way down the hallway to the bathroom, Aidan smiled to himself. The Australian somehow always knew what words to crack at him to make him feel better. He'd get over Lenora eventually. Girls came and went, but a friendship like the one he and Cliff had wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

Lance never minded when his roommate took off. Not that he wasn't fond of the brooding Norwegian - _Let's face it, we're the sort of friends who balance each other out_ - but he enjoyed some alone time for a change. Sven had left the dorm to go for a walk, saying that since it was getting darker out earlier, it would be perfect for gazing at stars. Which would have sounded super weird if the dude hadn't been a navigator-in-training.

He sprawled out on his beanbag chair. He loved the thing; his best friend from Nebraska, Ronnie, had gotten it for him when he enrolled at the Space Academy. It was meant to be a reminder of home and of the people he'd left behind.

Since enrolling, Ronnie had been arrested on multiple drug charges. He'd been tried as an adult and would be spending the next three years behind bars. So Lance guessed that it was for the best that he was in New York, otherwise he was sure he'd be Ronnie's cellmate.

There wasn't anything he needed to do. He didn't need to study, he didn't need to do laundry, he didn't need to call his folks - nothing. So he did the best thing to do in a situation like that: he closed his eyes and proceeded to nap on the beanbag chair.

Until the soft knock came at the door, anyway.

Wiping the drowsiness out of his eyes, he called out groggily, "Come in."

The door opened, and Ginger stepped into his room. Closing it behind her, she locked it and leaned against it. "Cadet McClain."

"Cadet Ellington." He raised an eyebrow, suddenly forgetting about his early-evening nap. "What are you up to on this fine evening? And, more importantly, what are you doing in my room?"

Walking over to him, she dropped to her knees so that they were at eye level. "I like torturing you."

"Well, you're sure doing a good job at it." He grinned, thinking in the back of his mind that his stupid lucky rabbit's foot was working its magic yet again. "Tell me something, Gin - do you wanna close the deal, or what?"

She frowned. _"Close the deal?"_

"Yeah. You know, get it on? Hit a homerun? Go all the way?"

She made a face. "Not now. Maybe later."

He groaned. "You are gonna _kill _me, Ginger."

She smiled at him, then stood up. "Well, since you're being so honest with me, I'll return the favor and be honest with you," she told him. "The reason I came in here was because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Yeah, I know that sounds cheesy to admit, but I'm no angel. And us Southern girls move pretty fast - it's gotta be the heat." She winked. "But what I'm saying, Cadet McClain, is that I consider you worthy. I like a challenge, and I can tell you do too."

How did this girl just _get _him? It was like she'd pried open his skull and read the thoughts in his brain. "Wow, this is the hottest conversation I've ever had, Cadet Ellington. It's like you know me."

"That's 'cuz I do. I know how to deal with arrogant, sarcastic boys like you." Blowing him a kiss, she slipped out of the room, closing it gently behind her.

_Huh? _Lance shook his head in disbelief. _Did that really just happen? _But he knew it had. He and Ginger understood each other. And with her admission, well, it only reinforced his earlier thought: she was not only a worthy opponent, but she would definitely be his ultimate prize.

* * *

Sven found himself unable to focus. It was funny that at such a young age, he'd experienced so much, and there were too many things he was worried about. He wondered how he could feel so much for Lenora, and he fretted over how she would take his news about Kat and his past drug abuse. It would drive him insane if he kept thinking about it, so he went down the stairs and outside to the quad.

The quad was silent. It was dark out, dark with a clear sky, and so cool - more like chilly. Most of the students were too cold to stay outside. Not him. He was Norwegian, for crying out loud. He'd experienced far worse than this, and besides, these conditions were perfect for gazing up at the stars. He was sure that Morgan would agree.

In his civilian clothes, Sven sat down on the ground and gazed upwards. The stars were glittering brightly for being in the city. He found so much comfort in them - well, he supposed he would; navigation ran in his family and in his blood. The solitude and the night sky both calmed him down when his mind was a mess.

"Ah-ha. There you are."

He looked over, and there she was. Her chestnut hair floated behind her, and to him, she looked unbelievably beautiful. He'd already told her how he felt about her, and he knew that she was on the verge of admitting that she cared about him, too. _"Elskede. _I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you came."

She sat down on the ground next to him, and he threw his arm around her shoulder. She melted into his side and rested her head against him. "Sven. I'm glad I'm here, too." She shivered. "I want you to know that I told Aidan that he and I are not happening. And then I went upstairs and told Andrew the exact same thing."

His breath caught in his throat. "So...that means...?"

"It means that the only guy I want anything to happen with is you."

A huge smile broke out onto his face. _"Jeg elsker det," _he told her.

"Um..._what_?"

"I love it," he translated.

"Uh-huh." She shook her head. "Either you're gonna have to stop speaking in Norwegian, or I'm gonna have to learn your native language."

He nodded in agreement. "Maybe I'll take you back home with me to Norway at some point. In which case, you'll have to learn at least a little bit of the language." His smile faded. "Listen, I suppose I should tell you this now. I don't want you hearing it from anybody else."

"Oh?" She looked worried.

"I had a drug problem, Lenora. It's the reason I'm here." He sighed. "I dated an older girl, Katrine, for over a year. She got me hooked on prescription painkillers. I was a mess for a long time." He paused nervously to look at her. "My grandmother - she's the woman who raised me - sent me here to get me as far away from Kat as she could."

She looked contemplative. Then, after a moment of quiet, she asked, "How long have you been clean?"

"One hundred and eleven days."

"Good for you, Sven."

He didn't like that answer, and tightened his arm around her. "Does that bother you? Because I swear I'm not going to do that ever again. I've come too far to relapse now." He was bordering on panic. If she left him now, right after she told him she wanted to be with him, it would break him.

"No, it doesn't," she answered honestly. "We're all broken here, Sven. Not one of us is perfect. There's not a single one of us on this floor who isn't dealing with inner demons." She nestled her chin against his shoulder. "My father was murdered in the middle of a robbery. Just over two years ago. It's the reason why I've been going to the shooting range every Saturday morning. He was killed by a bullet at close range."

"You never got over it."

"Does anyone _ever _get over something like that?"

_"Ikke. _I suppose not."

"Um..."

He smiled at her as he stood up, then pulled her up to standing as well. His girlfriend. Without thinking, he leaned in to kiss her. "I'll teach you some words," he promised. "But for now, let's get back inside. You're cold."

"No argument there." She took his hand, entwining her fingers in his, and they walked back to the dorm together.

* * *

The den was crowded - the entire floor was there. They couldn't understand why Cinda had called them all together, but she had. And it wasn't just them; she had invited Chip and Rocky, too. Apparently, they were the unofficial floormates.

"Thank you all for coming," she began, clearing her throat. "I know it's Saturday night, and you've all got better things tonight. But I wanted you to know that I ordered pizzas. For all of us. To celebrate making it through our first round of midterms." She paused to smile. "From Ray's."

"Which Ray's?" Aidan shot out.

The smile grew even bigger. "Ah. That's _my _secret."

"Cindy, you are too funny." Kelly leaned her head comfortably against Cliff's shoulder. "But thanks for the pizza. It's definitely appreciated."

"Here's to that!" Rocky chimed in. He rushed the Miran girl, lifting her up and spinning her around in the air like she was a rag doll. Laughing, she clung to him for dear life, terrified of him losing his grip and dropping her...or _worse_.

"Dude, Rocky, that's enough." Hunk came to his engineering partner's rescue and pulled her out of the Brooklynite's arms. "You can thank her later when the pizza comes."

"Thanks, Hunk." Cinda looked back over at her floormates. "But I really did it because I wanted you all to know that I consider us to be a family."

Silence. But not a confused silence. It seemed to be a moment of contemplation and acceptance. A realization that, yes, like it or not, they _were _all a family.

"Let me explain." Cinda looked over each of them meaningfully. "Some of us here are orphans. Some of us were abandoned by our families, and others of us left our families for something bigger. Something _better_. And still others of us have a whole host of different problems that still need to be worked out." She scrunched up her face in order to ward off her tears. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, no matter why we're here, we're all here. And we have no one to depend on but ourselves. _We're_ a family."

Ginger, overcome with emotion, wiped the tears out of her eyes. "You're right, Cin. You're right. We _are _a family."

Lisa patted her roommate's back. "It's true. And not only are we all a family," she gazed around the room, "but I think we all might have finally found someplace we belong. Someplace where we're loved and accepted unconditionally, no matter where we came from or how we got here."

"Cheers to that," Morgan called out. She sat on the couch, sandwiched between Jeff and Keith, and her floormates could swear that they noticed Keith's arm wrapped around her waist. "If we were back in Chi-town, I'd have already found a bottle of whiskey to toast us with."

"Sign me up!" Ginger cried out.

The room broke out in rounds of laughter. Lance, especially, gazed over at the bubbly blond with adoration for her in his hazel eyes. "Dude, Morgan, I'm so glad you said that. It was starting to get too sappy in here."

"Shut _up_, Lance!" Pidge cried out.

More laughter, and even Lance wasn't immune. "Thanks for that, Shorty," he shot back.

It was true enough: for better or for worse, they were a family. They were the outcasts in society that no one, save the heads at Galaxy Garrison, had wanted to deal with. And for that reason alone, they were all glad that they had come to the Space Academy.

* * *

The emergency meeting of the High Council had been called to order. Commander Steele had taken control before Space Marshal Graham arrived, setting up the transmission from the Stellar Ship Explorer. Commander Moriarty rarely contacted the Garrison, especially not at such an inconvenient time, so whatever he had to say was most likely dire.

As Graham entered the meeting room, the councilors stood and saluted. Grimly, the Space Marshal saluted back before taking his seat at the head of the table. "Gentlemen, I hear there's been word from the Explorer," he began, drumming his fingertips on the table. "Would anyone care to fill me in?"

Steele cleared his throat. "I've almost got the Explorer back online, Marshal. It should take just a moment to make contact." As he spoke, the screen behind them flickered on, along with the sight of the silver-haired, blue-eyed commander.

"Space Marshal. High Council." Commander Moriarty saluted.

Graham saluted back. He had known the Will Moriarty for many, many years - he had been a first-year cadet to the commander's fourth. "At ease, Will. It's good to see you again."

Moriarty nodded. "Yes, Matthias, it's good to see you as well. It's been too long." The commander shook his head. "I wish the circumstances were different, though. I've got some bad news to report."

"Oh?" The screen shot widened, and Graham noticed that Commander Moriarty was flanked on the ship's bridge by his two most valuable lieutenants, Richard Newley and Jonathan Hawkins. "Are you in the midst of combat, Will?"

"Not now, no. But I wanted to personally confirm the existence of Planet Naraku." Moriarty closed his eyes. "We've been in the Far Universe for quite some time now, Matthias, and I wanted to report that we've found the elusive Drule planet...along with its accompanying Supreme Council."

Graham looked over at Steele, whose hands fisted angrily along his sides. "What have you learned of the Supreme Council?"

Moriarty sighed. "Apparently, it is made up of kingdoms - first, second, and the like. The planets that have joined this Council have war-minded leaders. Currently, it is comprised of ten planets." He shot glances to both of his lieutenants, who nodded silently in agreement. "The reason for this emergency call, my friend, is that the Council _used_ to consist of eleven planets, but that planet has since broken off from the regime."

"Do you know which planet?"

"Planet Drule."

Graham closed his eyes in contemplation. "The one led by Emperor Zeppo, correct?"

"Correct. Which is why I wanted to alert you, Matthias. Apparently, there was too much competition for them in the Far Universe, which is why I wouldn't put it past Zeppo and his crew to make attempts in the Near Universe..._especially_ around Earth."

Loehmann, the bald, bespectacled councilor, rose to address the commander. "Do you have proof of this, Commander?"

Moriarty shook his head again. "No. I am merely speculating, Councilor. _But _I want it to be put on record that we are all aware of the situation and are monitoring it. We cannot afford an attack on Earth. The Garrison simply does not have enough power - man or machine, it makes no difference - to fight off an invasion of the magnitude I deem Planet Drule would lead."

Stunned silence followed.

Finally, Steele spoke up. "You're right, Commander," he acquiesced. "There is not enough firepower _or _manpower to fight off an invasion of that scale."

Graham turned his gaze away from the ship's commander. "Lieutenant Hawkins?"

The lieutenant saluted. "Yes, Sir?"

"Your Uncle Jacob is still at the head of J.C. Hawkins Manufacturing & Steel, is he not?"

Hawkins nodded. "Yes, of course. Are you thinking...?"

Graham grinned. "I'm thinking I may need to contact Mr. Hawkins and make some arrangements. He's proven to the Galaxy Garrison that he does remarkable work in manufacturing ships and machinery, as evidenced by the S.S. Explorer. Perhaps he could be persuaded to build some more defensive ships for us. For the right price, of course."

Hawkins saluted. "Of course, Sir."

The Space Marshal nodded, turning his attention back to the commander. "Will, thank you for the update. I shall be contacting Jacob Hawkins for assistance."

"My pleasure, Matthias. Commander Moriarty out." He saluted, and the screen went blank.

Graham sat down at the head of the High Council and folded his hands. He didn't have anything to say. They were on alert now; it would be too easy for Planet Drule and Emperor Zeppo to stage an attack on Earth. After a moment of silence, he informed the council, "I will be in touch with Jacob Christopher Hawkins to begin the manufacture of robot ships. We need to protect our planet from the Drule Empire at all costs."

There was a general sense of agreement.

"Gentlemen, I do not know when, or even _if_, Earth may come under attack. But I do know that we must be prepared. I do not wish an all-out war with Planet Drule, or any other planet for that matter, but I can promise you, we _will _be ready to defend Earth." He paused. "You may all be dismissed."

Saluting, the council members stood and exited the room, even Commander Steele. Which was good. The Space Marshal wanted to be alone for a moment to complete the sheer enormity of this information.

_If the Drules attack Earth, then we must be prepared. Which means that, not only do need to have enough robot fighters at the ready, but I need to intensify the curriculum at the Space Academy to better prepare the students for war. _

He could only hope that, when the day came to defend Earth, his students and graduates would be ready.

* * *

_**THE END**_


End file.
